What I Did For Love
by fbeauchamphartz
Summary: Sebastian goes to visit Kurt in the hospital after he hears about his attack. He's ready to lay all of his feelings on the line and tell him he's always loved him, but how is that going to work when Kurt is still engaged to Blaine...and will that stop Sebastian? Kurt H. Sebastian S. (Listed as In Progress because I will add one-shots later.)
1. What Would It Take?

**A/N:** _Warning: mention of assault, Kurt's hospitalization, and 'Bash' episode spoilers._

Sebastian walks quickly down the hallway, not making eye contact with the nurses he passes, trying to look like he belongs there. This is the third time he's been there and he still hasn't gotten to see Kurt. He doesn't want much. Just a glimpse; a peek to make sure that Kurt is okay, so that he doesn't have to rely on second-hand eavesdropped information to calm his frayed nerves.

It was a fluke that he found out about the attack at all. Blaine sent out a mass text to mutual friends, asking for messages of love and support on Kurt's Facebook wall. Sebastian assumed that Blaine was so shaken up that he forgot to take him off his contact list. He didn't ask questions. He decided to do the small-minded thing and chalk Blaine's little faux pas up to fate.

The first time Sebastian showed up, the whole Scooby crew was there, holding vigil in the lobby, waiting for any word. The second time, as luck would have it, Kurt's father had just arrived. That's how Sebastian happened to find out what room Kurt was in.

Now he hopes he can slip in during the changing of the guard and get a second alone with Kurt. He has no idea what he will actually say. He kind of hopes that Kurt will be asleep and he can just stand by his side for a moment…maybe hold his hand. For once, he doesn't want to be an intrusion; he wants to be an addition. He wants to add his strength to the tower of support that surrounds Kurt Hummel.

Sebastian sees the room up ahead. He hears the blood rushing in his ears as he tries to stay as inconspicuous as possible. The door is propped open and from the direction he approaches it appears to be dark inside except for the soft blue glow of equipment lights scattered around the room. Sebastian creeps slowly to the doorway and peeks inside. His heart falls. He won't get his moment. Kurt's father sits asleep in a chair beside his son; and lying in the bed alongside Kurt is Blaine, wrapped around him partially like a vine.

Sebastian takes a step inside the room so as not to arouse suspicion from the night shift nurses bustling by. He blinks a few times to let his eyes adjust to the dim light, then takes his first good look at Kurt's face – the cut on his lip, the gash on his cheek, his black eye. He focuses on the injuries - the marks on his beautiful face, the cuts on his knuckles. Kurt fought back, and he has the scars to prove it.

Sebastian's fingers flex in the air, balling into fists, his whole body shaking with rage.

Rage at the men who beat him up; who dared lay a hand on Kurt.

Rage at Blaine for not being there when Kurt needed him. Where the fuck was he? What was so important that he would leave Kurt to walk around the city alone at night?

Rage at the frightened fuck-face who took off without even a thank you; who left Kurt to fight his battle alone.

Rage at Kurt for being so selfless, so brave, that he would put himself in danger for someone he didn't even know.

But most of all, rage at himself for being such a fucking coward. Sebastian Smythe, the big man on campus. All this time at NYU, he stalked Kurt's Facebook page, followed his posts on the NYADA blogs, always made a point to go out of his way and 'bump' into him unexpectedly, acting like a jerk or an asshole when he passed him on the street to get a rise out of him.

Never once did Sebastian tell Kurt the truth. Never once did he tell him how he really felt.

How he feels that Kurt is making a mistake marrying Blaine.

How it probably doesn't matter because he feels there is no way Kurt would fall for him now.

How he wants Kurt to give him a chance, just one chance.

He doesn't need to burden Kurt with any of this, not while he is lying unconscious in a hospital bed, but what if there was no tomorrow? What if those bastards had beaten Kurt to death?

Sebastian lets his hands fall open and the rage bleeds away.

Today is a gift. For now he has time. Whether he deserves it or not, Sebastian has another day to figure out his next move.

Why did it take having Kurt's face bashed in for him to see just how much of an ass he has been? So much time wasted. If he had played things differently, if he had changed the game, that might be him wrapped around Kurt right now…or even better. They wouldn't be in the hospital, because there's no way anyone would have touched Kurt with him around.

Sebastian sighs. It is a nice daydream, but the reality lies before him, morbidly bruised and broken, and he can't take it anymore.

There is nothing in that room that he can change. Not his charm or his sass or his money can make anything different. He backs out of the doorway, unable to look away even though he knows he has to go.

He'll try again later…and again…and again. He will find a way to make Kurt hear the confessions he keeps locked away. He knows that he isn't above doing anything now. He has no dignity. He needs Kurt, and he can't wait until another act of violence takes Kurt away from him for good.

It takes all his strength to turn away from Kurt's room and start back down the hall, but he does, the floor creaking beneath his feet along the way.

He looks away just as a pair of tired, wary eyes open for a moment and follow his slouched body walk past the door as he leaves.


	2. What Wouldn't I Do?

**A/N:** _I have to apologize for this one because it ended up a little fluffier than I originally intended, but as you can see when you read it Sebastian objects to the fluffiness, too, so I think we're all good ;) Also in this AU, Rachel didn't quit NYADA. Warnings for mentions of anxiety and symptoms of PTSD. Brief mention of Kurt helping a guy being beaten, but nothing graphic whatsoever. Mention of Klaine._

Kurt is not okay. Sebastian can see it when he follows him (at a distance) to school. Kurt has been out of the hospital for more than a week, and to the outside observer Kurt looks completely recovered. He puts on a brave face that's only slightly clouded with fear. He smiles for his friends, but he doesn't quite share in their laughter, their carefree attitude as they walk down the street on their way to NYADA. His eyes dart around. He flinches inconspicuously when someone touches him unexpectedly. He walks more hunched over than usual.

His friends appear to dote over him. They laugh too loud, talk too animatedly, but there's an undercurrent of falseness to it, as if it's all a façade; a bit too forced. Sebastian walks closer and tries to listen in on the conversation going on around Kurt. Rachel rambles on about all important _Funny Girl_ issues. Blaine has gained a few pounds. The blond boy with the big lips says something about _Star Wars_ fanfiction. This inane jabber bounces back and forth, and not a single person cares that Kurt hasn't contributed to the conversation. He floats along, muttering here and there, nodding when it's expected, but otherwise he's locked inside his own head.

Sebastian knows a few things about the way Kurt reacts to things that bother him (having been one of those things for so many years), and one of them is that he tends to distance himself, but it kills Sebastian that not one of his friends has even looked Kurt in the eyes this entire time and ask him if he's okay, or…or something. Someone should _do_ something. Sebastian isn't sure what either, and to be fair maybe his friends don't know what Kurt needs, but he doesn't need this…whatever it is. Surrounded by so many self-involved people that don't see how Kurt's hand trembles where it's wrapped around his coffee cup, or how his head pops up when someone in the distance hails a taxi or calls across the street.

Sebastian wants to reach out to Kurt. He wants to make a statement, open the door that's been closed between them for so long. He gets an idea and immediately cringes. It's not a bad idea. It's actually a good idea, if Sebastian was the corny, schmoopy, romantic type. He's not…he knows he's not. He runs away from any kind of sentiment. FTD commercials make him want to puke. But he could be the hopeless romantic if that's what Kurt needs. Sebastian sighs and pushes a hand through his hair, watching as the small mob enters the school with Kurt suspended in its midst, the nucleus of the group but oddly an outsider; the world of petty drama going on around him while he quietly clings to sanity.

Sebastian looks around and spots a flower shop across the street from the school. He hems and haws, but remembering that he swore at the hospital that he isn't above doing anything for Kurt now that he has a second chance, he finally decides to put his plan into action.

* * *

The roses start to arrive in the middle of Kurt's classes.

The first one shows up halfway through Cassie July's dance class. A student taps Kurt on the shoulder mid-tango and hands him a perfect white rose. Kurt's mouth drops, and Cassie rolls her eyes when she sees it.

"For Christ's sake, Hummel," she barks as she tries to get the class of swooning girls and their aggravated partners back on track. "You have three classes with your fiancé. Are the roses really necessary?"

"I don't have any classes with him today," Kurt informs his dance teacher coyly. She scoffs with a sarcastic smirk on her face, turning away so she doesn't have to witness Kurt fawning over his precious flower.

Kurt smiles, sniffing the perfect white rose before noticing a card dangling from a gold cord around the stem. Kurt picks it up between careful fingers and reads it.

_"There is something you must always remember…"_

Kurt furrows his brow as he reads it again, disappointed that the florist cut off the message.

That disappointment morphs into excitement when the second rose arrives in the middle of his Intro to Musical Theater lecture.

This rose is red; a bud that is days away from opening. He blushes as envious girls shoot him jealous looks. He finds the second card and reads it, eager for another piece of the puzzle.

_"You are braver than you believe…"_

Kurt gasps at the sentiment. He didn't think of himself as particularly brave when he ran to help the man being beaten in that dark alley. It just felt like the human thing to do. But everyone he loves had been lecturing him about 'being brave' as if it is a bad thing; he knows it comes from a place of fear and caring, a place of love that doesn't always express itself the way it should.

It still hurts.

When the third rose arrives, Kurt spins around beside his seat, trying to find Blaine in the gathering crowd. Kurt knows that Blaine is obviously dropping the roses off and then racing to get to class, but he wants a glimpse of him to hold on to. He doesn't see his fiancé's familiar head of gelled hair anywhere.

He sighs at his lavender rose, immediately searching out the card.

_"…stronger than you seem…"_

Kurt finally begins to recognize the passage, and groans to himself.

"Winnie-the-Pooh?" he mutters with a huge grin on his face. He rolls his eyes, but bites his lip, bouncing in his seat. Maybe it is a little campy, but Kurt can forgive campy since Blaine is trying so hard.

Kurt doesn't want to seem greedy, but he secretly hopes that another rose will arrive.

And it does. A pink rose, right at the beginning of his individual voice training lesson.

Kurt knows what the card will say even before he reads it.

_"…and smarter than you think."_

Kurt's heart swells, honestly elated for the first time since he's left the hospital.

After school he'll see Blaine, and he'll make sure to thank him properly.

* * *

Blaine is late, and Kurt waits outside with his colorful bouquet clutched to his chest. Kurt bends down and sniffs the flowers, letting their sweet scent fill his nose and tickle his head. Blaine can be prone to large, sometimes uncomfortable displays, but this…this was what Kurt needed; a constant stream of support; something special, something private, something thoughtful.

Something for the two of them to share.

When Blaine finally walks through the glass doors, Kurt attacks him with abandon, wrapping his arms around him and pecking kisses all over his face.

"Well hello to you, too," Blaine chuckles through the veil of kisses. "What's gotten into you?"

"What's gotten into me?" Kurt says breathlessly. "Oh, just the greatest fiancé in the world showering me with roses all day, that's what."

Blaine pulls back from Kurt enough to look into his eyes.

"What…"

"Oh, don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about," Kurt says, smacking Blaine lightly on the shoulder. "The gig is up. I know it was you. I mean…Winnie-the-Pooh, Blaine? You really are sappy."

Blaine looks at Kurt and notices for the first time the roses clutched in his grasp.

"I…they're beautiful, Kurt," Blaine stutters, his hazel eyes going dark with confusion, "but I didn't send them."

Kurt pulls out of Blaine's arms completely, stepping back, thoroughly unamused.

"I wish I had sent them," Blaine says, trying to find a way back into Kurt's arms again.

Blaine doesn't have another chance to comment. Rachel joins them and immediately monopolizes the conversation with furious commentary about how unfair Carmen Tibideaux is acting lately. Sam shows up, seemingly from nowhere with Artie in tow, and they start off again. Blaine seems to forget the mysterious roses altogether as he gets wrapped up in the saga of Artie's newfound popularity at his own school. Kurt sighs down at his roses, once again feeling completely alone.

They trundle along, and Kurt doesn't bother to watch where he's going. Why should he, when Blaine and Rachel and Sam and Artie and eventually Mercedes will shuffle him around to the loft, or the diner, or wherever else they want to go.

"Watch it!" Rachel hisses as a tall stranger pushes his way into their group, scattering everyone for a second. The oddly familiar looking man in an ankle length, dark grey cashmere coat brushes past Kurt, pausing long enough to hand Kurt another rose and bustle away into the oncoming crowd. Blaine dotes over a flummoxed Rachel while Sam gives Artie a once over for any damages, leaving Kurt to turn and lock eyes with the stranger, who isn't a stranger at all.

"Sebastian?" Kurt mutters at the man with the crooked yet sympathetic smile who gives him a subtle wave before hopping on the nearest bus stopped and before Kurt knows it, Sebastian is gone.

Kurt looks down at the orange rose in his grasp, a card hanging from a thin, gold cord, just like the rest, and it clicks. Sebastian sent the roses, all of the roses, but Kurt doesn't know why. Why would Sebastian spend the day sending him roses?

He fumbles for the card, reading the quote over and over.

The line on the card solves part of the riddle, and even though he's thoroughly bewildered, Kurt finds himself smiling.

_"Weeds are flowers, too, once you get to know them."_


	3. What Should I Say?

Kurt weeds his way through the crowd, dodging the occasional preoccupied on-comer, too busy and too wrapped up in their own issues to worry about whether they trip over him or not, but with every step he takes he feels the footsteps of the man behind him as if they are his own. They keep the same pace, the same cadence, only a step or two behind. Kurt knows when he's there without having to turn around. Kurt has gotten used to Sebastian following him most days on his way to and from school; Kurt has become so accustomed to the subtle click of Sebastian's shoes against the pavement that he can pick out the sound amid the rumble of the bustling crowd. He doesn't understand why Sebastian's always there, but he has been doing it for the better part of a week. It's confusing and reassuring all at the same time, which is why Kurt knows he needs to put a stop to it.

It doesn't bother Kurt, but he's begun to depend on it, that presence lingering behind him as he makes his way around the city. Sebastian is turning into Kurt's own personal safety net, and Kurt needs to know what that means to him. If there's one thing that Kurt is certain of, it's that he can't depend on Sebastian. Regardless of whatever this sudden change means, Sebastian isn't part of his life, has never been a part of his life.

Apparently no one has told this to Sebastian yet.

Kurt slows down and then stops short. He hears a huffed curse behind his left ear and bites his lip hard to keep from laughing.

"Do you want to get some coffee?" Kurt asks without turning around. "My treat."

There's a moment of silence, and then a long, drawn out sigh.

"Sure," Sebastian's patently annoyed voice answers. Kurt chuckles to himself. He has a peculiar urge to turn around and take Sebastian's hand, but he doesn't. Instead, he nods to a mom and pop coffee spot across the way and they walk side-by-side, separate but together, jaywalking across the busy street. When they get to the door Sebastian reaches past Kurt and grabs the handle, opening the door wide for Kurt.

Kurt pauses for a second and looks at the door, at the hand holding it open, at the tense look on Sebastian's face as he waits for Kurt to make up his mind and walk inside. Kurt smiles somewhat awkwardly and mutters a soft, "Thanks," taking advantage of the chivalrous gesture before Sebastian can change his mind and let the door swing shut in his face.

They don't speak while they stand in line, and Sebastian doesn't look at Kurt, which Kurt finds baffling. Kurt really wants answers, but he doesn't pry. He can tell Sebastian feels uncomfortable. He stands rigidly, moves stiffly as they advance towards the counter, his entire body taut as if he's preparing for a fight. Kurt can tell by the anxious glances of a few customers near them that Sebastian's intense posture comes across as at least a little intimidating, but Kurt finds it unexpectedly endearing. This guarded attitude is such a departure from the cocky Sebastian that Kurt met at the Lima Bean, the privileged prep school boy, always quick with his wit, a step ahead of everyone with regard to his nefarious plans. This Sebastian standing beside Kurt in line has none of those old snarky walls in place. This Sebastian is holding back, and for the first time ever Kurt is worried about the possibility of hurting his feelings.

They get their coffees and find a table with low, plush armchairs situated near the window. Reclining in the comfortable chair seems too informal for this particular conversation, so Kurt struggles to sit up straight, poised on the slanted edge. His legs knock together at the knees with the strain of keeping his body upright.

Why can't anything be easy?

Sebastian twirls his paper coffee cup in his hands, staring down at the white plastic lid, waiting.

Quite obviously waiting, so Kurt decides to cut to the chase.

"Why do you keep following me?" he asks.

Now it's his turn to wait.

Sebastian sighs and stops twirling his cup.

"Because I want to make sure you're alright."

Kurt's first instinct is to bring up the fact that Sebastian doesn't need to make sure he's alright because they're not technically friends, but the tight set of Sebastian's mouth, the way his eyes stay glued to his cup and the table and anything that will keep him from looking into Kurt's eyes, changes his mind.

"Don't worry about me," Kurt says, waving a hand in front of his face as if that simple dismissive movement can wipe away all of Sebastian's concerns. "I have more than my fair share of people keeping an eye on me."

"Yeah," Sebastian says around a wry chuckle. "I've seen how concerned they are. By the way, how is Blaine handling the 'Freshman Fifteen'? How is Rachel dealing with the boredom of getting the one thing she's always wanted? And what about those Wookie orgies I've heard so much about?"

Kurt doesn't know whether to run to his friends' defense or to laugh at Sebastian's insane accuracy. On the one hand, Sebastian just insulted his closest friends and his fiancé, and accurate or not he really doesn't have any right. Sebastian isn't a part of Kurt's inner circle. In fact, this whole conversation bordered on the ridiculous considering everything Sebastian has ever done to Kurt. Where did he get off being so judgmental about people who had stood by Kurt's side for years?

On the other hand, another part of Kurt can't help but agree. He expected to be handled with kid gloves when he got out of the hospital, but what he didn't expect was for everyone to get over it so quickly and pretty much ignore him, hoping that whatever problem still remained with Kurt would resolve itself.

Kurt is a big boy. He doesn't need someone to hold his hand everywhere he goes, but it would be nice if once in a while someone asked him what he needed.

Blaine's reaction to the whole situation confounds Kurt the most; Blaine who's been bullied and who had the shit beaten out of him for being gay. For heaven's sake, he had to change schools because of it. Blaine should understand on a deeper level than anyone the pain that Kurt is still going through.

Blaine had been moody and emotional for a couple of days. He slept with Kurt in his bed at the hospital. He sang to him. He held his hand.

Now, nothing. Kurt's scars hadn't yet faded and the main focus in their lives had veered back to worrying about Blaine's weight gain and other ever blooming aspects of his dwindling self-esteem.

The pain hasn't gone away yet for Kurt, but it's definitely done for Blaine.

A year after Blaine was beaten at Sadie Hawkins he almost didn't have the courage to join Kurt at Prom.

Is Kurt expected to get over being put in the hospital by bullies in a few short weeks?

"They're doing their best," is all Kurt can come up with to say. It might not be entirely true, but it is noncommittal on his part. He feels no need to condemn or condone the actions of his friends to Sebastian.

"Really?" Sebastian replies, his voice dripping enough sarcasm in that single word to freeze the whole of the Hudson River.

Kurt runs a hand through his hair. He didn't invite Sebastian out for coffee to fight, and if he has to be honest with himself he doesn't have the energy to defend people he's in no mood to defend.

"Look, tearing down my friends for what you perceive as faults does not explain why you feel the need to follow me around all over like a creeper, making sure I'm alright."

Kurt doesn't mean to snap, but he doesn't think it will matter. Sebastian is pretty much bulletproof in Kurt's eyes, so he indulges in doling out a pot shot of his own.

He immediately regrets it when he sees Sebastian flinch; barely noticeable, mostly around his eyes.

Years ago that would have felt like a victory.

Right now it feels hollow.

Sebastian sighs again, and Kurt thinks he's about to get up and leave, but instead he looks up from his cup, fixing Kurt with green eyes that seem pleading and slightly lost.

He swallows hard before he begins.

"Kurt, I've been living fine without you," he starts. "Not seeing you every day, not really talking to you, I've been okay. Great actually."

"Wow," Kurt deadpans, feeling strangely slighted. "Thanks."

Sebastian shakes his head, reconfiguring his thoughts, afraid of failing right out of the gate.

"That's because I knew you were safe," he continues quickly. "I thought you were happy, and if I believed that I could be content, even if you and I…" Sebastian stops; the thoughts he contemplates showing clear on his face, and Kurt catches them. His jaw drops, the color escaping his face before Sebastian begins again. "…even if you and I couldn't be together. But when I got that text from Blaine, when I found out you'd been hurt…my entire world stopped spinning."

Kurt holds his breath, unable to think of a word to say.

"Kurt," Sebastian says more softly, "I don't…this isn't easy…"

Sebastian grunts in frustration, hitting the table with his fist and pushing back in his chair.

This time Kurt leans forward and takes Sebastian's hand where it rests next to his cup. Sebastian's wary eyes stare at Kurt's hand in his, holding onto him lightly. Sebastian sits up straight and breathes in, trying to steady every urge his body has – to break free and leave, to hold Kurt's hand tighter, to pull him close.

He decides to go for broke and finish what he has to say, because if he doesn't when he has this chance, he'll find a thousand reasons not to tell him ever.

"So many times…" Sebastian begins again in a tone Kurt has never heard from him before. It's reserved and emotional; vaguely affectionate. "I wanted to tell you so many times exactly how I felt. I wanted to apologize for being an ass. I wanted to beg you to give me a chance."

"Why didn't you?" Kurt asks before he can lose his nerve.

Sebastian smiles sadly, daring to rub his thumb along Kurt's knuckles. Kurt stiffens, feeling that the polite thing to do would be to pull away, not to lead Sebastian on especially when he seems so vulnerable, but he doesn't want to. For reasons he can't explain, he wants to hold on longer.

"Because I was an asshole to you," Sebastian says, more to himself than to Kurt. "Because I didn't deserve a chance after the way I treated you. Because you were happy, and as much as I hated, I hated, _I hated_ that you were happy with Blaine and not with me, I didn't want to destroy what you have."

Kurt waits to see if there's more, but Sebastian clenches his teeth, not as if he's finished, but as if he's holding back what else he has to say.

"So, why tell me now?" Kurt shrugs. "Why after I have a fiancé, plans to be married? Why after all this time?"

Sebastian hesitates; the fact that Kurt hasn't pulled his hand from his grasp gives him strength, but try as he might he can't convince his brain – his cynical, sardonic brain – to say what he needs to say, so he closes his eyes and lets his heart take over.

"There was a second when I imagined what could happen if you pull that fucking messed up stunt again, you run to someone's rescue, only the next time the guys in the alley have a knife or a gun and they kill you, and Kurt, something inside me…died."

Sebastian shook his head and Kurt realizes he's also shaking away tears. He shifts back and Kurt holds his hand tight, afraid he might pull it away.

"I'm a coward," Sebastian admits. "All these years I've been nothing but a fucking coward. I spent my life trying not to think about you, and when I couldn't stop, I would come all the way down here just to bump into you and I risked nothing. Nothing at all. That's the fucked up way I treat someone I care about. But you…" Sebastian squeezes Kurt's hand tighter, "…you risked everything for someone you didn't even know. So if I couldn't at least make sure that you were okay, if I couldn't come here and tell you how I felt, then I would hate myself even more than I do now, every day for the rest of my life."

Sebastian slowly slips his hand out of Kurt's, and Kurt lets him go. Kurt tries to come up with something appropriate to say, but the words that spring to mind sound empty and platitudinous. Sebastian takes a sip of his coffee for the first time since they sat down and he grimaces.

It's bitter on his tongue and nearly ice cold.

Kurt looks down at his own coffee cup and pushes it aside.

"I don't know what to say," Kurt says honestly.

Sebastian props his elbows on the table and drops his head in his hands.

"Then don't say anything. Really. I didn't mean to dump all my shit in your lap like this, and the last thing I want is for you to try and come up with a way to let me down easy."

Kurt drops back in his chair.

That's exactly what he was trying to do, but not for the reasons Sebastian must think, but if Kurt can't explain it to himself, how is he going to explain it to Sebastian?

"Look," Kurt says, sitting back up in his chair, "how about this. What if we sort of start over again…as friends this time?"

Sebastian doesn't look up from where he has his head cradled in his hands, but groans loudly. Kurt reaches across the table and smacks him hard on the arm, laughing when Sebastian's arm falls out from under him and his head drops forward, hitting the table.

"Ow! Christ, Hummel!" Sebastian hisses, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. "If that's how you treat your friends, I think I'll pass." But Sebastian is laughing, and when he looks at Kurt, he seems relaxed, like the weight of several years has been lifted from his shoulders.

"Come on," Kurt says, standing from the table and grabbing his cup, "I'm already late for class."

"Oh, I'm sure you can miss clown class or whatever you've got going."

Sebastian stands and grabs his cup as well. They pass by a trash can on their way out the door. Kurt pitches his undrunk coffee, but Sebastian keeps his, and Kurt grins. Sebastian holds the door open for Kurt again and they walk out onto the sidewalk, joining the crowd that swarms past.

"Are you going to keep following me around?" Kurt asks.

Sebastian shrugs, not meeting Kurt's eyes.

"Maybe," Sebastian says.

"You know you don't have to," Kurt says, stopping at the corner just as the light turns red. "I'll be fine."

"Maybe I'm not doing it for you." Sebastian presses the button for the light repeatedly, as if punching it over and over will make it change quicker. "Maybe I'm doing it for me."

Kurt nods. They cross against the light when a path clears and a swath of people make a break for the opposite side of the street.

"Okay," Kurt says. "Then instead why don't we walk together, since that seems like something friends would do. This way people won't think you're some kind of crazed stalker."

Sebastian rolls his eyes dramatically.

"God, you're clingy," Sebastian teases, but when he sees NYADA looming ahead of him, he frowns slightly. "But if you really want to, I guess we can."

"I would consider it a huge personal favor," Kurt teases back, shaking his head. He turns to the man looming beside him and Kurt considers the proper protocol for leaving now that Sebastian has revealed so much of himself. Should Kurt offer him a handshake? A hug? A pat on the back? Perform some complicated fist bump?

"Give me your phone," Sebastian says abruptly. Kurt startles but hands it over, burning with curiosity.

Sebastian takes the phone and starts punching in numbers. Kurt smirks at how long he takes.

"So, was this all just a ploy to get me to let you borrow my phone?" Kurt quips. Sebastian turns the phone back to him and Kurt takes it.

"That's my phone number," Sebastian says as Kurt reads the information on the screen, "my email, and the address to my apartment uptown. If you need anything…"

Sebastian lets the words drift away, but Kurt finishes for him.

"I'll call. I promise."

"Yeah," Sebastian says for lack of anything better. He backs away with a small wave.

"See ya later, Hummel," he says, and turns quickly on his heel.

Kurt watches Sebastian walk away until he's just another head of brown hair blending into the crowd, then looks back down at the screen, reading the information one more time before he locks his phone and puts it in his pocket. He heads to class and tries his best to push their conversation aside so he can concentrate on being a NYADA student.

* * *

Kurt works his way from his first class through to his last class completely on autopilot. He can't stop his mind from wandering back to his conversation with Sebastian. Everything he said replays in his mind like the scene of a play. He can't erase the memory of the emotions on Sebastian's face, how foreign and unsettling they were; or the way his voice almost cracked when he confessed to being an ass, to being scared…

…to wanting a chance with Kurt.

Kurt tries to replace those thoughts with images of Blaine. He tries to remember the last time he saw a similar look on Blaine's face, or the last time he heard that same desperate crack in his voice that comes with the thought of losing the one thing you want the most.

Aside from his recent trip to the hospital, Kurt's mind comes up completely blank.

Kurt can possibly admit it was there the day Blaine proposed to him, on the spiral staircase at Dalton, but Kurt often felt that speech sounded perfectly practiced, like he had said it hundreds of times to himself in the mirror, or maybe even in front of Sam, before he recited it to Kurt.

His morning with Sebastian occupies his thoughts all day long – sitting on the sofa watching _The Notebook_ with Blaine, eating Thai takeout for dinner, listening to Rachel and Mercedes while they jabber on about Mercedes's burgeoning relationship with Sam. Nothing that goes on in the loft around him is enough of a distraction to wipe it away.

Lying in bed with Blaine, Kurt feels tremendously and overwhelmingly guilty because his mind has stopped focusing on all the words Sebastian said and has zeroed in entirely on the comforting warmth of Sebastian's hand holding his.

"Blaine," Kurt says, stroking down his fiance's back with his fingertips while he continues to sort through things in his mind, "what did you think when you heard I was in the hospital?"

"I didn't know what to think," Blaine answers quietly. "I didn't know what had happened to you, and they wouldn't tell me anything..."

"No," Kurt interrupts gently. "I mean, how did you feel? Were you scared, were you angry, were you frightened?"

Blaine lies silently with his head on Kurt's chest, mulling over his feelings in his mind.

"Well, I was scared," he says, raising a hand to trace patterns over Kurt's t-shirt lightly with his nails. "I didn't want anything to happen to you. I mean, I love you. You're such a huge part of my life. I can't picture a future without you." Blaine shakes his head, banishing the memory of sitting by Kurt's hospital bed, holding his hand, hating himself, hating the world for not leaving them in peace. "Everything would change." Blaine sniffles, turning his face up to look at Kurt's; his eyes wet with new, unshed tears. "I don't think I could stay in New York without you. It would remind me too much of you. It would tear me apart if anything like that happened to you again."

Blaine's voice wavers, and Kurt's heart sinks for him. He holds him close and rocks him gently.

"Alright," Kurt murmurs soothingly. "Shhhh. It's alright. Everything's going to be okay."

He kisses Blaine's curls and hugs him tight until the sniffles die down and the few tears that dampen his shirt dry away. Blaine drifts to sleep in Kurt's arms, but Kurt stays awake, listening to Blaine breathe in the dark, staring up at the ceiling, finally putting his jumbled thoughts in order.

Kurt likes Blaine's answer. It's a good answer. It's the answer Kurt expected.

It just wasn't as good as Sebastian's.


	4. What Do I Want?

"So, what do you study that gives you all this free time to wander the city during the day?" Kurt asks, pulling apart his cronut and handing Sebastian half. Kurt originally felt guilty indulging in the one treat that had started Blaine on his landslide to his new found obsession with food, but he figures what Blaine doesn't know about his occasional food infidelities won't hurt him. Besides, better to snack behind Blaine's back then to rub it in his face.

Sebastian takes a bite of the still warm pastry and moans softly, chewing thoroughly before he answers.

This has become their ritual – coffee and cronuts on the way to NYADA. When they started walking together in the mornings they could only meet two days a week. Blaine struggled and struggled with his weight problem, with feelings of inadequacy and failure; but most of all with the idea of the beautiful, tortured, and slightly broken boy he had fallen head over heels for blossoming into a stronger, sexier, fiercely independent man. One evening he broke down into tears and told Kurt that he couldn't stand himself; couldn't cope with the person he had turned into, living in constant fear that one day Kurt would wake up and realize he didn't love him anymore.

Kurt felt the weight of that confession like a rock in his stomach. He reassured Blaine that he would always love him, but his words of acceptance and affection didn't seem to work the magic he had hoped. So from that moment on Kurt devoted himself to helping his fiancé lose weight which meant early morning jogs three days a week, but sometimes the dark alleys they would cut through brought back difficult memories for Kurt, and he signed them up for memberships to a local gym instead.

Things went fine in the beginning. Better than fine. Even though Blaine is usually the first one up to make Kurt breakfast, Kurt is really the consummate morning person in the relationship, especially when it comes to waking up before five in the morning. Kurt would roll Blaine out of bed, slap him into his tank top and sweats, and drag him down to Crunch Fitness for morning cardio.

Kurt took boxing lessons with Blaine, letting Blaine help him with his punches and his stance. In turn, Blaine joined Kurt for a spin class. They would pretend they were racing through Central Park, and tried to slap each other surreptitiously when the instructor wasn't watching, which she always was, and she scowled at them with a tiny smile on her lips. One day out of the week they dedicated to the machines and weights - walking side-by-side on the treadmills, spotting each other at the bench.

Their mornings together at the gym were reminiscent of being teenaged lovebirds back at McKinley (or Dalton) again. There was no stress, no insecurities (believe it or not). It was fun and carefree. Kurt would look at Blaine as he attacked the punching bag, focused, determined, fitter and trimmer than he had ever seen him and think, "There he is. That's the Blaine I fell in love with."

Kurt felt happy. He had finally found the balance he longed for so much. He had the man of his dreams back from the dark void of depression, had made an amazing new friend to boot, and the problems he and Blaine did have were quickly on the mend because they were starting anew – open and honest, with lots of genuine conversation and intimate moments together.

That is until they started going to the gym a few afternoons after school.

The gym at four in the afternoon when it's nearly jam-packed is a different universe compared to the gym at five in the morning when it's empty and only a handful of tired, dedicated people show up to run on the treadmill and generally ignore everyone else around them.

Their membership gave them access to a personal trainer, and Kurt decided to take advantage of it, needing some guidance since he wanted to keep his leaner physique and not suddenly bulk up the way he feared he might be. Guns were fine, but he wanted to keep his armory low-key.

Seth, his trainer, was a sweet, intelligent, flattering man, who was passionate about his job and liked to flirt; but even without a ring on his finger Seth wasn't really Kurt's type. Kurt didn't pay much attention to his flirting. He was polite and attentive and made it clear during their first session together that he had a fiancé and Seth got the hint. From then on out they had a professional trainer/trainee relationship. Seth eventually handed Kurt over to George, a trainer who worked with a few members from the New York City Ballet Company, and Kurt found out they had a lot in common.

It was nice talking to people with similar interests outside of school and the loft. He was beginning to feel like a shut-in with regard to his social circles, like he was locked into two sects and would never be able to function in the real world. He never thought that making new friends would be a problem, especially not now that he and Blaine had gone through so many stages of personal growth.

But Blaine became sullen and moody and competitive all over again. It's not that Blaine didn't get his own fair share of attention, but the harem of admirers that Kurt had collected Blaine found hard to stomach. They fought more and more, and Blaine protested by being literally immoveable when the alarm went off at four until the morning workouts stopped altogether and the cronuts came back. In the end Kurt and Blaine decided that it would be better if they went to the gym separately – Kurt by himself when he found the time, and Blaine with Sam in tow to keep him on track.

In the meantime, Kurt had to go back to the start; searching for the balance, peace, and happiness he had lost.

He started walking with Sebastian more and more, and when he did he realized how much he had missed it.

"I'm actually double-majoring in corporate finance and forensic accounting," Sebastian replies when he swallows his bite. "Some of my classes are independent study and the rest of them are in the afternoon."

Kurt's fingers stop where they dangle a piece of pastry in front of his lips.

"Wow," Kurt says with genuine awe. "That sounds fascinating…and hard. Shouldn't you be studying, like, all the time?"

"No, not really." Sebastian finishes off his cronut and sucks the glaze off his fingertips. Kurt's eyes go wide and he turns away, focusing on the sidewalk ahead of them, on his Docs as his feet roll across the dirty pavement to keep from staring at Sebastian's lips. "I'm ahead in all my classes. In fact, I'm closer to being considered a sophomore than a freshman at the moment."

"How did you swing that?" Kurt mumbles from behind his hand as he chews the last bit of his cronut.

"A lot of hard work." Sebastian shrugs, sounding surprisingly humble. "I've been working towards it since my junior year of high school. I took online courses over the summers, got my gen eds out of the way, took a few core classes, got credit for some higher level electives I took at Dalton, and interned over the interim break."

"Uh, okay. Color me impressed." Kurt shakes his head, trying to fit the picture of this hardworking, ambitious man with the wise ass that made his life miserable so many times.

"Why?" Sebastian side-eyes Kurt, bumping him with his shoulder. "Did you think I was just a pretty face and a tight ass?"

Kurt rolls his eyes and bumps Sebastian back.

"I guess I didn't think you'd be working on the right side of the justice system," Kurt teases.

"Well, I can't spend all of my time running around like a cartoon villain, causing all sorts of comical mayhem everywhere I go."

Kurt chuckles, biting it back when he notices Sebastian look at him and smile – not his usual crooked smirk; but the soft, vulnerable curl of his lips that Kurt rarely gets the privilege to see, and Kurt realizes he might have been flirting. He can't help it though. He's so comfortable around Sebastian. He feels freer talking to Sebastian. He knows that whatever he says to Sebastian will stay between the two of them. Kurt's successes or fears or even his anger won't tear apart Sebastian's self-esteem or completely derail his life. Most important of all, Sebastian doesn't judge, which took some getting used to, all things considered.

They cross the street in silence, Kurt draining what's left of his coffee and pitching the cup into a trashcan outside the doors of the school. Sebastian rolls up his sleeve and looks at his watch, squinting down to read the face.

"Is it just me, or are we here earlier than normal?" Sebastian asks. He holds the door open for Kurt who steps inside, and Sebastian follows, holding on to every opportunity he gets to talk to Kurt before he needs to leave and take the lonely train ride to the NYU campus.

"Yeah, well, I signed up for an extra stage combat lesson to hone my bo staff skills," Kurt says, leading Sebastian through the halls.

"I thought you took stage combat with Blaine," Sebastian recalls from an earlier conversation.

"The last time we sparred in class together, he tried to lobotomize me," Kurt explains. "Besides, it's not an official class, per se."

By the time they arrive to the correct classroom it's already full of students hanging around the perimeter, talking and whispering, or lightly sparring, working on footwork and switching between holds. Kurt glances up at the clock on the wall.

"Good," he says, dropping his bag in an unoccupied corner and unbuttoning his peacoat, "I've still got a few minutes."

Sebastian watches Kurt take off his coat and lay it out carefully over his messenger bag. He unzips his hoodie, peeling it down his arms and Sebastian sucks in a breath at the sight of the tight tank top underneath – ribbed and black and covering precious little in comparison to the clothes Kurt usually wears, which might be tight as sin but show no skin.

And Kurt's skin – that pale, creamy, flawless skin – makes Sebastian's tongue tingle and his mouth water.

Kurt's eyes flick up just as Sebastian has the good sense to look away, as luck would have it, in the direction of two students heading their way, dressed in similar workout clothes as Kurt, holding a bo staff in hand and wearing matching wolfish grins.

"Hello, Kurt," the first man says, his words curling with the hint of a Colombian accent. "Care to introduce us to your yummy friend?"

Kurt looks between the two men blocking their path and smiles politely – pink lips stretched tight over white teeth with no sincerity.

Kurt turns to Sebastian and gestures to the two students, starting with the tanned-skin man who first spoke.

"Sebastian," he says, "this is Carlos and Lalo. Lalo, Carlos, this is Sebastian."

Sebastian looks over both men with a nod and a brief, "Hello." Carlos is tall with a dancer's build and extremely defined arms (though Sebastian thinks maybe Carlos is overcompensating for something through bicep curls). Lalo is much tanner than Carlos and his shaved head shows a couple of weeks' worth of dark stubble. He turns to his companion and shares a knowing smile.

"Did you come to join our class today?" Lalo asks. "Or is Kurt giving you _private_ lessons?"

Carlos titters in a distinctly un-masculine fashion, and Kurt bites his tongue from the twenty or so comebacks lined up in his head, begging to lash out.

"Is he good enough to give lessons?" Sebastian asks. Kurt can detect that teasing Smythe tone in the undercurrent of his smooth, charming voice and Kurt sighs. Somehow he sees himself paying for bringing Sebastian to class today.

"Good? He's the best in our class by far." Carlos gushes dramatically.

"Is that so?" Sebastian drawls, turning to face Kurt who stares pointedly back, hands on hips, a dangerous challenge in his blue-grey eyes. "Are you going to show me how you use your stick, Hummel?" Sebastian slips off his coat to a softly murmured chorus of ooo's and whispered catcalls, and without looking around the room Kurt can tell all eyes are on them. He turns his face up to the ceiling and groans, sweeping his head around and locking eyes with his instructor. He motions to Sebastian.

"Can I…"

"Just remember…" the severe upper classman says with an affirmative nod, "safety first, safety last, safety always."

Kurt walks to the bo staff rack, ignoring the amused expression on Sebastian's face as he watches him saunter by to grab the last staff.

"Crap," Kurt mutters, looking around the room for an abandoned staff anywhere.

"Here," Carlos rushes forward, bypassing Kurt and heading straight for Sebastian, "you can borrow mine."

"Uh, thanks," Sebastian says, trying to take the staff from the eager man who will simply not let go, staring up at Sebastian with adoring heart eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Kurt says, wedging his bo staff between them. "Back away, Carlos."

Kurt walks off toward the center of the room, Sebastian following close behind.

"You've got some interesting classmates here," he whispers into Kurt's ear, aware that the acoustics of the room will probably amplify any sound.

"Don't tell me there aren't any hopelessly smitten braniacs following you around at your school wherever you go, probably carrying your books between classes, taking notes for you, offering to do your homework assignments."

"I plead the fifth," Sebastian jokes, stopping a few feet from Kurt, bo staff in hand. One look at Kurt, poised to begin, and Sebastian knows he's about to be owned, but he can at least try to put up a good fight.

"Okay, let's work on your stance first," Kurt says, walking behind Sebastian, manipulating arms and legs to get them where they should be. "We work with four main stances, but for now let's just deal with one. The Front Stance. Bend your front knee, straighten your back knee, square your shoulders, and…there."

Kurt walks back around to appraise Sebastian's stance, and a polite applause rises around the room.

"See? They think you look good."

"What took them so long?" Sebastian mocks, trying to hide the fact that he feels mildly self-conscious. It's been so long since he performed anything, he can feel his arms shake with a touch of stage fright.

"It's okay," Kurt says softly, using their close proximity as he adjusts Sebastian's hands on the staff as an excuse to talk to him privately. "Once we get started, you'll forget all about them."

Kurt smiles at Sebastian and Sebastian nods, his heart racing with every touch of Kurt's hand, every brush of his skin against any exposed area of Kurt's body. What should seem so innocent is quickly becoming the biggest turn on of Sebastian's life.

"Now, we use three different holds," Kurt instructs, sliding Sebastian's hands over the staff. "The Normal Hold you'll use most of the time, but widen your grip for blocking."

"You better get used to that one," Carlos calls out, and a spattering of giggles and snickers work their way around the room in a wave.

Sebastian's eyes snap up, but Kurt walks into his field of vision.

"Focus on me," he says. "Don't worry about them. They're not even here. It's just you and me. Alright?"

Sebastian sighs and relaxes at the soothing sound of Kurt's voice trying so hard to keep Sebastian grounded.

"Okay, Sifu Kurt," Sebastian says. "What do you want me to do?"

"It would actually be Sensei Kurt," Kurt says with a chuckle. "Bo fighting is Japanese, not Chinese."

"Ah." Sebastian's legs tremble in the uncomfortable stance they are locked in, but he's determined to stay how Kurt put him, though he realizes if he moves and breaks his stance Kurt would have to fix him again. For the sake of not re-igniting his fading hard-on he decides to stay put.

"We use five basic strikes, but I think we'll be safe with two. The Overhead Front Strike…" Kurt says with a quick demonstration, bring the staff down over Sebastian's head, grinning when Sebastian's reflexes kick in and he blocks the blow, keeping his grip wide. Sebastian hears several students applaud again.

"Good job," Kurt says, and Sebastian's cheeks color despite his efforts not to become too affected by Kurt's praise. "You're going to follow that up with a 4-Point Strike." Kurt attacks again, moving the staff up and down, then side to side, with Sebastian rushing to keep up. Sebastian manages to block all four shots, but the tip of Kurt's bo grazes Sebastian's forehead, ruffling his hair.

"Great," Kurt says, standing in his own Front Stance, which looks vastly more stable than Sebastian's at the moment. "So, why don't you go ahead and just come at me?"

"What?" Sebastian chokes out. "Are you shitting me?"

"There's no better way to learn than to try."

Sebastian shakes his head, regretting getting himself into this position. He already feels the sweat rolling down his spine and he hasn't even really moved yet.

"Lunge forward, and then return to your stance."

"While trying to hit a moving target," Sebastian gripes.

"I'm not going anywhere," Kurt says, and more ooo's travel the room.

Sebastian stutters forward once or twice, partially out of nerves but also not quite willing to bring his bo staff down on Kurt's head, or try since he's certain Kurt's not about to let him land a hit. Sebastian lurches forward spasmodically, bringing the staff over his head with as much strength as he can muster. With barely any energy exerted, Kurt blocks the blow, a loud snap like a firecracker exploding reverberating around the room when the two sticks make contact. With a spin of his staff, Kurt knocks Sebastian's out of his hands and sends it skittering across the floor.

"That's no fair!" Sebastian whines. "You didn't teach me that move."

"You don't need to know the move to defend against it," Kurt returns sagely. "If you had drawn back your staff quicker, I wouldn't have had time to disarm you."

Sebastian grumbles, chasing his staff as it continues to roll, bumping it repeatedly with the toe of his shoe and sending it bouncing along. Carlos stops it with the side of his foot in order to let Sebastian catch up.

"Thanks," Sebastian mutters, bending over to grab the wayward stick and jogs back to his sparring partner. He recreates a lopsided version of his original stance, and waits for Kurt's instruction.

"Okay," Kurt says, renewing his own stance. "I won't do that again. Come at me, and I'll block. This way you get the feel of striking something."

Negligibly more confident after that first initial strike, he lunges at Kurt again, and again Kurt blocks with such little effort you would think he is swatting at mosquitoes and not fending off an attack. Sebastian tries the Overhead Front Strike followed by the 4 Point Strike like Kurt showed him, but when those fail Sebastian starts making up random blows, doing anything to knock Kurt off his guard, but Carlos was right – Kurt is amazing.

After a few minutes, Sebastian is bent over panting, his face red, sweat clinging to his hair, while Kurt stands perfectly composed and waits for Sebastian to recover.

"So…" Sebastian pants, "is this how you spar with Blaine? He attacks and you defend?"

The question is a relatively simple one, but as Kurt tries to think of a way to answer, it hits him. That's not just how they spar. That pretty much describes their whole relationship.

"Not all the time," Kurt says, knowing it's not entirely true. There's a catch in Kurt's voice and Sebastian hears it. He straightens up with a deep breath to calm himself, wiping the sweat off his brow with the cuff of his long-sleeved tee.

"Why don't we flip the script a little, and you come at me," Sebastian suggests.

Kurt raises an eyebrow and laughs condescendingly. It's sassy and sharp and everything that Sebastian had hoped to hear.

"You want me to attack you?" Kurt clarifies.

"Why not?" Sebastian swivels left to right, cracking his back. "I mean, don't try to kill me, of course, but show me the full power of a Kurt Hummel onslaught."

Kurt doesn't move, staring at Sebastian as if he's gone completely nuts, twirling his bo staff from hand to hand as he considers his offer.

Sebastian walks up to Kurt, leans in close and says, "You can pretend I'm Blaine."

That is the turning point; the thing that changes his mind. Kurt isn't a pushover, but he could never seem to take out the full measure of his anger on Blaine in class. Blaine would never be able to take it.

But Sebastian can handle it, and to top it off, he's asking for it.

Kurt eyes Sebastian as he repositions himself in front of Kurt, grinning from ear to ear with the bo staff blocking the upper half of his body. Kurt positions himself, too, and tries to concentrate. He tries to picture Blaine the last time they sparred in class, when he came at Kurt, when he tried to hurt him, or maybe just tried to embarrass him. They never discussed it so Kurt didn't know for sure, but Kurt almost hated him for it.

Kurt twirls the staff one last time in front of him, and with not a single move to telegraph his intentions, he brings it down over his head with such force Sebastian thinks his own paltry staff will snap in half. Kurt sighs and smiles, tremendous satisfaction vibrating through his body from the backlash of the blow. It feels good, in a cathartic and nearly erotic kind of way. Kurt repeats the blow, and Sebastian is quicker to block, but he still stumbles backward. He's tired out from the dozen or so strikes he delivered, and from the look in Kurt's eyes Sebastian can tell he's nowhere near done.

Kurt advances quickly. Sebastian's muscles strain to grip the bo staff, backing away to dodge Kurt's staff and when he can't, simply waving the thing feebly left and right to avoid Kurt's blows. The students in the classroom cheer, and if he could make his facial muscles do anything but tense up in anticipation of a slap across the face, Sebastian would smile, because when Sebastian looks at Kurt, Kurt looks alive. No longer caged by that prison of mediocrity they call Lima, Ohio. Kurt has found the place where he belongs. He's in his element here. Not a punching bag at McKinley or the possessively titled but otherwise anonymous 'Blaine's boyfriend' at Dalton. He is a shining star at one of the most prestigious performing art schools on the whole of the east coast…and he's currently kicking Sebastian's ass.

Sebastian feels his back collide with the wall and he knows he's done for. Kurt knocks Sebastian's knuckles, not too hard but hard enough to smart like hell, and Sebastian reflexively drops his staff. Kurt takes advantage of Sebastian's moment of distraction and pins him, his staff pressed up against Sebastian's neck, pushing his chin up enough to make it hard for Sebastian to breathe.

"So, what do you think of the way I handle my stick now, Smythe?" Kurt asks, panting heavily against Sebastian's neck.

Sebastian swallows and Kurt can see his Adam's Apple bob above the staff.

"I think you do pretty well, Hummel," Sebastian admits. Kurt lowers his staff and passes it off to Carlos, who rushed amid the fray to collect his own dropped staff, hovering around longer than necessary to try and catch any gossip-worthy snippets of forbidden conversation.

Sebastian stares at Kurt in a way that's both captivating and disarming with its raw heat and Kurt forces himself to turn away.

"A penny for your thoughts," Kurt says, trying to calm the flush in his cheeks, hoping for some snarky remark to bring them back from this charged tension to something that Kurt knows how to handle.

When Kurt ventures a glance back, the heat in Sebastian's eyes is still there, growing in intensity, raising the temperature of the air around them.

"God, Kurt, I really want to kiss you right now."

Kurt steps back involuntarily, stumbling over his feet in the process, righting himself before he tumbles to the floor.

Kurt sees the look on Sebastian's face change immediately, his eyes cooling, shifting left and right nervously, lips fumbling over an apology.

"Kurt, I'm sorry…I…"

"Mr. Hummel," the instructor calls from the far corner of the classroom, "if you're done serving your attractive friend, I would like to get started with the lesson now."

"You're not gay, Steve," Lalo quips back.

"That doesn't mean I can't appreciate a handsome man, Lalo," Steve returns flatly.

Sebastian steps away from the wall, still trying desperately to apologize, but Kurt grabs his arm and silences him.

"It's okay," Kurt says. "Don't worry about it."

"Are you sure?" Sebastian sighs with relief. "Because I don't want…"

"Just…forget it," Kurt says, shaking his head. "It's fine. I really need to get ready for class, though, so…I'll see you later?"

Sebastian's entire face transforms, and all at once the man that Kurt is used to seeing, the more mature man with his boyish quick wit and patented snark, returns.

"What? Did you think an impromptu ass whooping was going to scare me away?" Sebastian winks with a click of his tongue. "You're not getting rid of me that easy."

Sebastian lingers a breath longer with Kurt's hand wrapped around his arm, and then backs away, heading for the door. Kurt watches Sebastian leave, his eyes trailing him when he turns at the doorway with a crooked smile and a wave, but when he rounds the corner into the hall and disappears Kurt feels heavy, and a little hollow. He hears an exaggerated sniffing sound travel over his right ear, then behind his back to his left ear. He spins around to see a grinning Lalo shaking his head.

"What are you doing?" Kurt asks with a twinge of disgust at the thought of this man smelling him.

"Oh, I'm just curious if it's some kind of pheromone cologne you're wearing," the man says, his brown eyes smiling.

"What?" Kurt repeats, still not quite sure what he's getting at.

"Yeah," Carlos agrees, joining them from the hall where he got the honor of the final glimpse of Sebastian before he left the building, "or are you wearing diamond encrusted undies. What is your secret that you've got all these hot guys wrapped around your fingers?" Carlos wiggles his fingers in front of his face for emphasis as he sashays up beside Lalo, whose arms are crossed over his muscular chest.

"Sebastian's a friend," Kurt says in his defense. "He's not wrapped around my finger."

"Like hell he's not," Lalo says, turning back toward the door as though Sebastian would pop back in at the mention of his name. "That man has it bad for you, Hummel."

Kurt thrills and despises the way his heart falters at the thought of Sebastian wanting him. Kurt knows he does. Sebastian told him, but hearing it from someone else, someone not inclined to cloud the truth, makes it seem all the more real.

"He's not mine," Kurt says, with a touch of longing that he can't hide.

"Well, then can I have him?" Carlos asks, his wide eyes hopeful. "That man can borrow my bo stick any time."

Kurt doesn't know where the strange possessive streak comes from, but it rears its head full force, and Kurt leans in to Carlos's face.

"No."


	5. What Should I Do?

**A/N:** _Okay, so here's the fifth and final part of this 'What…?' series, and I hope you guys like it. Things come to a breaking point between Kurt and Blaine, and Kurt has a very important decision to make that could affect the rest of his life… (Warning for mention of Klaine and Blaine, Glee Spoilers and speculation of further episodes, blink and you'll miss it mention of Finn.)_

Kurt sits on his bed with books open and scattered around him, searching for some subject that will take his mind off of his sparring match with Sebastian. He thumbs through his homework, first reading about the history of the Old Globe Theater, then about the works of Aleksandr Pushkin, finally pulling out the big guns and re-reading a few choice chapters of _Patti LuPone: A Memoir_. He barely reads past Ms. LuPone's mention of the murder of her grandfather when he gives up, shutting the book and abandoning it on the bed amidst the company of his textbooks and a few sheets of music – audition pieces for a few upcoming student produced musicals he wants to try out for.

Kurt shuts his eyes and groans, picturing the scene in the combat classroom, Sebastian shoved up against the wall with Kurt's bo staff pressed beneath his chin, trapped, his chest heaving with every labored breath, beads of sweat dotting his brow, the darkness in his eyes that overwhelmed the green irises and blazed with a softly simmering fire.

The rough edge of repressed desire in his voice when he said he wanted to kiss Kurt.

That one sentence will echo in his head from now till kingdom come, Kurt is sure of it.

Kurt shakes his head, desperate to take these images and feelings and hide them away. This isn't love, he reminds himself. He's not falling for Sebastian Smythe. It's simply infatuation. He's feeling neglected and a bit rejected by his fiancé and now he's projecting his need for physical intimacy onto Sebastian. Yes. That has to be it, Kurt thinks, trying to find relief in his epiphany. Any high school student that's taken psych as an elective can see that this is a text book case of misplaced affection.

Kurt comes to a difficult but necessary conclusion; one that makes sense to his rational brain as it steps back and examines the big picture; but which makes his heart stop in its tracks, and then start again, limping along sluggishly as it tries to hold itself together and not shatter. He throws himself back onto his pillow and breathes out, hard and fast till his entire body feels flat and deflated, devoid and empty.

He's going to have to stop seeing Sebastian.

Inside Kurt's head, his brain nods approvingly, crossing its smug arms and feeling proud of itself for making such a mature decision. After all, he has a fiancé and a future with him to consider, and in the long run this is probably the best thing if he's going to nurture his foundling relationship; the relationship he sacrificed so much to keep together, even when the pieces fall faster than he can pick them up.

So how come he wants to crawl under his covers and cry ugly, angry sobs for the rest of the week?

He plays out how he intends on telling Sebastian, what he's going to say exactly, and his chest tightens, the pain wrapping around his body, threatening to split him in two.

Did he really have feelings for Sebastian Smythe; something other than 'I think I'm lonely because my fiancé has problems and I need a sympathetic shoulder to cry on' feelings?

The more he thinks about it, the more he realizes the answer might be yes.

Oh, great fucking spaghetti monster in the sky…what the hell did he do?

Kurt feels the bed dip and opens his eyes as Blaine drops down opposite him, a half-eaten bowl of microwave theater popcorn in his hands.

"Hey," Blaine says, "can I talk to you for a minute?"

Kurt frowns at the offending snack, which he can only assume is the hapless victim of another bout of stress eating.

"Blaine," Kurt says firmly, sitting up and pulling the bowl away, "I thought we talked about this."

"I know," Blaine says, sounding meek and distant. Blaine runs his hand down the leg of his jeans and Kurt cringes, reaching on his bedside table for a wet wipe.

"So, do you want to tell me what's up?" Kurt says. "Because the Blaine Anderson I know wouldn't butter a pair of $300 retro distressed jeans."

Blaine wrings the wet wipe in his hands, and then runs it over his leg, trying ineffectively to wipe up the greasy trail. He balls the wipe up and pitches it in the trash, and Kurt knows Blaine is thinking, buying himself time.

"Blaine?"

Blaine settles his hands on his knees and takes a deep breath.

"I want you to end your relationship with Sebastian," he says bluntly.

Kurt sits up straighter, setting the bowl of popcorn down on the floor beside him and turning his body to face his fiancé full-on.

"Excuse me?" Kurt says, not sure he heard Blaine right, because Blaine would not have the gall to tell Kurt to dump _another_ friend…not now…not this time.

"I don't want you spending so much time with Sebastian anymore," Blaine says again, more confidently than he did the first time.

Kurt stares dumbly, mouth hanging slightly open, stunned into silence, trying to find a way to put into words the exasperation rising within him.

Grasping for his thoughts he comes up with the only thing that needs to be said.

"No."

Blaine drops his head in frustration.

"I don't believe you, Blaine!" Kurt says, whispering hoarsely so as not to announce to the whole loft that they are once again fighting. "What gives you the right to tell me to get rid of a friend, a good friend, who used to be your friend if you remember!"

"Yeah, and if I remember correctly you didn't like the friendship I had with him either," Blaine bites back.

"You're right," Kurt agrees with a vehement nod. "I didn't. But I didn't ask you to stop being friends with him, and no amount of me being upset over it or telling you I felt uncomfortable about it made you stop. So why do you get to do this to me?"

Blaine's mouth is tight, his entire face locked down around words he's fighting with himself to say.

"Because I wasn't dating him!" Blaine blurts out, no longer concerned with who in the loft hears.

Kurt's mouth drops open wider. From the living room Kurt can hear an audible dual gasp from Rachel and Mercedes who have been quietly sitting on the sofa watching _Mamma Mia!._

"Okay, psycho!" Kurt says, putting his arms up in front of him as if he can physically block himself from Blaine's remark. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about him walking you to school every morning. I'm talking about you sharing cronuts and coffee, and all your laughing and flirting in the hallways at school, not to mention your little display during combat class."

Kurt shakes his head in disbelief, closing his eyes so he doesn't have to look at the now insufferable, ridiculously enraged glower on Blaine's face.

"What?" Blaine retorts when a shocked Kurt doesn't deny his accusations. "You think I wouldn't find out? Are you forgetting about the gossip chain at NYADA, Kurt? I didn't have to see you with my own eyes. Everyone's talking about it."

Kurt's face inflames as he gears up to defend himself even though he recognizes the sliver of hypocrisy in doing so. There is the teeny-tiniest nugget of truth to what Blaine said. Kurt did flirt with Sebastian, but that's all – harmless flirting. No more or less than what Blaine does when Sam gives him piggy-back rides around the city, or when he twerked with Tina, or when he eye-fucked some rando during Coach Sylvester's aerobics class at _23 Hour Fitness_, if the rumor mill can be believed.

Well, if second-hand information is good enough for Blaine, it's good enough for Kurt.

"Blaine," Kurt says, attempting to stay calm while on the verge of a Defcon 1 level meltdown, "I have given up so many friends for you. Every time you lapse into crazy possessive Blainezilla mode, a member of my social circle heads for the hills. By the time we get married, I won't have a single friend left."

"That's not true," Blaine grouses, counting off on his fingers. "You have Rachel and Santana and…"

"Well, if I trade in Rachel and Santana, can I keep Sebastian?" Kurt jeers petulantly. From the living room, a disgruntled Rachel yells, "Hey!"

Kurt rolls his eyes. Nothing in his life is private or sacred.

"Now you're being childish," Blaine argues, "and unoriginal. Wasn't that from _Friends_?"

Kurt hides his head in his hands, searching out comfort in the meager dark.

"You're not getting it." Kurt laughs at the absurdity, because a minute ago Kurt was thinking of stopping his friendship with Sebastian for the good of his relationship with Blaine, but having Blaine come in and demand it, demand that Kurt stop being friends with the one person who seems to understand him and accepts him for who he is, is an entirely different story.

It's a story Kurt's not sure he wants to hear the end of.

"I can't talk to you when you're like this," Kurt says finally, getting off the bed and grabbing his jacket from the hanging rack of clothes.

"Where are you going?" Blaine asks, following him as he cuts through the living room. Eyes trail him from the sofa, the volume of the television conspicuously mute, as he heads for the door.

"I'm going for a walk," Kurt snaps. "Don't worry. I'm pretty sure I won't make any new friends this late at night."

Kurt throws open the sliding door and storms out of the loft without turning around to slam it shut.

He needs out, and he needs out now; dark, deserted New York City be damned.

Kurt takes off down the street and lets his feet lead him, giving him one less thing to think about as he tries to clear his head.

His phone buzzes over and over in his pocket but he ignores it, knowing it's Blaine with one of two agendas in mind – to continue the fight, or get Kurt to feel guilty and back down. When it buzzes for the tenth time Kurt gives in, determined to send a venomous reply to whatever Blaine has the nerve to text him and then shut off his phone for good.

But the most recent text isn't from Blaine. It's from Rachel.

_To Kurt:_

_Don't you think you're being selfish and immature about this? I mean, what is Sebastian to you really that you can't give him up for the sake of your soul mate?_

Kurt stops walking in order to read the message again; to make sure he understands it perfectly before he unleashes his fury on Rachel Berry.

How dare she? She's supposed to be Kurt's friend, his best friend. Besides, what the hell does any of this have to do with her? Kurt has to wonder also where Rachel is getting her information – from tonight's unsolicited performance, from a sanctimonious Blaine, or from the overly-efficient grapevine that branches out through the NYADA halls.

He starts composing a message, several messages, but erases them.

He doesn't want to do anything out of anger, no matter how much she deserves it.

Instead he composes a different message and hits send.

_Meet me at the coffee shop asap…please._

Then, without waiting for an answer, he shuts off his phone.

* * *

Sebastian arrives miraculously before Kurt does, waiting outside, wearing his signature cashmere coat, his hands shoved in the pockets. Kurt sees him peering down the street, squinting against the street lights that fan out above him, bathing him in their copper-colored glow. He spots Kurt walking up from the subway and smiles - a crooked grin that's a touch more sympathetic than usual.

"How the hell did you get here so fast?" Kurt launches in with a laugh, not in the mood to be pitied.

"I have my ways," Sebastian says, being purposefully vague.

"Ahh, so would that would be the broomstick then?" Kurt walks through the door that Sebastian holds open for him.

"A level twelve warlock never reveals the true identity of his teleportation skills."

Kurt turns in the doorway and scowls.

"Oh dear Lord," Kurt groans in disgust. "I'm going to forget you said any of that."

Sebastian laughs, stepping inside and letting the door shut behind him.

"Probably for the best," he agrees. "I'm not ready to reveal that part of myself yet."

"Oh, no!" Kurt gasps. "This is actually a thing?"

"Well, with that attitude you won't find out anytime soon."

Sebastian leads Kurt to the table by the window where they sat the first time they had coffee there.

"That might be a good thing." Kurt falls into the chair and sinks in, letting it soak him up and engulf him with its worn paisley fabric.

Sebastian saunters up to the counter. The pudgy woman behind the register wearing a floral 1970s style magenta kaftan beneath an equally floral apron, sugar-and-cinnamon hair pulled into a sloppy bun on top of her head, smiles at his approach.

"The usual?" she says, already ringing up their order.

"You're too good, Eileen," Sebastian coos. He leans over the counter, making sultry bedroom eyes at the older woman who takes two cronuts out of the pastry case and sets them on a thick, red plate with napkins underneath.

"Oh, stop, you naughty boy," she says, swatting at Sebastian with the back of her hand and laughing. The sound is warm, a bit raspy, and reminds Kurt of the way Carole laughs - not from just her mouth and throat, but with her whole body.

"Ow!" Sebastian stands up to avoid another swat aimed his way. "You wound me, m'lady."

Sebastian reaches into his coat for his wallet, pulls out a twenty and sets it down on the counter.

"Yeah, right." Eileen pulls out a tray from beneath the counter and sets it down, moving the plate on it, adding two full coffee cups and several small packets of sugar and creamer. She fishes out the twenty from beneath the tray and rings up the total on the register. "Go back to your sexy boyfriend, why don't you?"

Kurt, sitting silently at the table by the window, listens to their banter, his stomach twisting as he waits for Sebastian to set her straight.

"What, him?" Sebastian throws a quick glance over his shoulder at Kurt sinking deeper into his chair. "Actually he's my martial arts instructor."

"Really?" Eileen drawls, handing Sebastian his change. Kurt can tell by the way her glimmering eyes look him over that she's completely unconvinced.

"Yup," Sebastian insists. "You should see him in action." Sebastian leans further over the counter as he slips a dollar into the tip jar. "He enjoys kicking my ass."

"I'll bet." Eileen turns her eyes toward Kurt and grinning for all she's worth, throwing her head back and guffawing heartily when Kurt turns bright pink.

Sebastian laughs, too, and the pink in Kurt's cheeks transforms into a pulsating fire engine red. Sebastian carries the tray over to Kurt, arranging the coffee cups and condiments next to the plate on the table and then slipping the tray beneath his chair. Kurt watches him with an amused smile on his lips. He snatches his coffee cup, popping off the plastic lid and taking a sniff, letting the aroma of Arabica beans fill his senses and work its way through his body, relaxing his muscles and repairing his fractured sanity. He reaches blindly for a packet of sugar, his fingers brushing Sebastian's as the other man grabs a cup of creamer.

Kurt's heart skips, but he overlooks it. So much has happened to him tonight; too many mixed emotions spinning off in every direction while Kurt tries to find one to latch on to, one that will lead him in the right direction.

"So, were you in the mood for a late night coffee run, or is there something you want to talk about?" Sebastian settles back into his chair, holding his cup and inhaling before he takes his first sip. Kurt takes a long look at Sebastian and notices how drawn his face is, how his eyes droop with exhaustion – all signs that Sebastian must have had a long day, too. Suddenly Kurt feels like a heel for dragging him out at this late hour. Kurt sees Sebastian's eyebrows knit together as their eyes meet over his coffee cup.

"Look, Hummel," he says after another sip. "You got me out here so there's no turning back now. You might as well spill."

Kurt shakes his head.

"I'm really sorry about this. Did I take you away from something important?"

Sebastian shrugs.

"Watching porn," he says. He sounds rather indifferent, but Kurt huffs a bitter laugh.

"You too, huh," Kurt says. "It must be going around."

"I _am_ an adult human of the male species," Sebastian says, sitting up and putting his cup on the table. "Is that what this is all about? Did you catch teen angel Blaine watching a porno?"

Kurt bounces his head back and forth in a pseudo nod.

"No…well, yes, I did. But that's not what this is all about."

Sebastian waits patiently. Kurt wants to tell him everything – every gritty, blasphemous detail; but much of his tale belongs to Blaine, and Kurt doesn't feel right betraying his confidence…even if he is acting like a jackass.

"This is harder than I thought," Kurt begins.

"What is?" Sebastian asks, talking softly, not wanting to pry.

"This…this thing I have with Blaine," Kurt stammers.

"Thing?" Sebastian says with an uncomfortable chuckle. "You guys are engaged."

"I know." Kurt sighs. "It's just so complicated…and it's becoming more and more sordid every day."

Sebastian waits again, drumming his fingers on the table. He gestures in frustration when Kurt doesn't continue.

"You're not giving me much to work with here," Sebastian says. Kurt crosses his arms on the table and rests his chin on them, tracing the path of the fake wood grain with his eyes.

"Blaine has issues…" Kurt figures that's a safe way to put it without divulging too much. "And I try to help, but everything I do seems to backfire."

Kurt pauses for a moment, choosing his words carefully.

"He's jealous of me," Kurt says with a dry, mirthless laugh. "Of my successes, of my body…of my friends…"

Kurt's eyes flick up to find Sebastian's staring at him, and Sebastian understands, frowning at the thought that he managed to come between Kurt and Blaine the one time he didn't mean to.

"Instead of being happy for me, of being proud to be with me, he wants me to give it all up." Kurt's gaze drifts back down to the tabletop. "I didn't think that if Blaine loved me the way he says he loves me, that if we're actually soul mates, that he would expect me to give up everything I've worked for to make him feel like he's enough."

Sebastian chews on the inside of his cheek, but he doesn't say a word. He watches Kurt, taking in everything he says while at the same time half lost in his own thoughts.

"I know this sounds horrible," Kurt says, wiping at his eyes, drying a few stray tears born of confusion and frustration, "but I think I need a break. I think we maybe rushed into this."

"Are you considering breaking up with him?" Sebastian asks too quickly, but Kurt lets it slide.

"No," Kurt says, "I don't think so. I don't know. But right now if I stay in that loft, I'm going to end up hating and resenting him. I know relationships are hard, and I know people change, but he didn't just change. He metamorphosed into some strange alien creature I don't recognize anymore."

Kurt expects Sebastian to laugh, maybe join in on the Blaine bashing a bit, but he's eying the table with such intense concentration that Kurt doesn't know if he heard his comment or not.

"I might be able to help you," Sebastian says slowly, looking up from the spot that's been helping him think.

"How?" Kurt asks, discouraged at the thought of taking relationship advice from Sebastian.

"I have a place," Sebastian says, "in my building. I bought it when the apartments went condo. I thought it could turn into an additional source of income, but I've never actually rented it out."

"What are you saying?" Kurt asks, sitting up again, all at once excited and terrified.

"If you need out that badly, I'll rent it to you," Sebastian offers. "Shit, you can just…you can have it, rent free, for as long as you need a place to stay."

Kurt is speechless. It sounds like an opportunity, a plan even; but he's already shaking his head.

"I…I can't," Kurt says though his brain is screaming at him to reconsider.

"Why can't you?" Sebastian says irritated, and Kurt thinks rightfully so. Here Kurt drags Sebastian out in the middle of the night and bitches about not wanting to go back home and now he's turning down the perfect opportunity to get the break he needs.

"Because I'm angry right now," Kurt reasons, "but tomorrow when I wake up, I might not be. I might want my life back. I don't want to do anything rash."

Sebastian rolls his head on his neck and sighs.

"Okay," Sebastian says, staring at the ceiling, "I get that."

"You do?" Kurt asks, hoping he didn't offhandedly offend Sebastian by turning down his offer.

"Yeah. I do." Sebastian looks back at Kurt, his eyes compelling. "But the offer's always open. Don't forget it."

* * *

Like so many of the things that Kurt feels selfish for wanting, he learns to push Sebastian's offer aside. For weeks he manages not to think about it, and Sebastian doesn't mention it again. Kurt convinces himself that he made the best decision. Working on his relationship with Blaine is more important than running away. Kurt made promises. He has responsibilities. He needs to stand by his word, because when it comes down to it, if he strips away everything he has and everything he is, his word is all he really has.

But to prove that no selfless deed ever goes unpunished, the universe steps in and says, "Fuck you, Kurt Hummel."

Blaine finally gets his big break; an opportunity to have his talent backed by a generous benefactor…an opportunity that should have been Kurt's.

Blaine's constantly fluctuating despondency reaches meteoric proportions and Kurt wants so much to show his support and solidarity, so when his chance at stardom finally comes knocking, Kurt relents.

He relents.

He is beginning to think that phrase will be chiseled on his tombstone.

Instead of taking the spotlight for himself, he decides to share it with Blaine.

Kurt always said that Blaine would find the spotlight; but this time Kurt wraps it up in a bright shiny bow and gives it to him.

Kurt makes it easy for him, too. He picks out a musical score that showcases their talents equally, schedules their practice sessions, he even designs and makes special complimenting suits. But after seeing the couple perform together, the eccentric rich socialite who wants so much to promote fresh new talent doesn't want both of them…and she doesn't want Kurt.

She only wants Blaine.

Kurt smiles through clenched teeth when she rudely rejects him right to his face. He smiles when she hugs and raves over Blaine, introducing him to the press as her newest protégé. He smiles when they get home and Blaine boasts about his newest success, seeming to forget that Kurt is the reason he got it in the first place. Kurt even goes so far as to make love to Blaine that night, to celebrate this momentous occasion, but his heart isn't in it, and his head is definitely somewhere else. It isn't even in the apartment. It is somewhere uptown, moving into his own place, staring out of a large picture window at a new view of Manhattan. After Blaine falls asleep, Kurt crawls out from beneath his body. He creeps into the shower, turns the water on hot, and sits beneath the spray, washing away his tears and watching them swirl down the drain, along with all his hopes.

Kurt tries to find a bright side to all of this; something he can identify in the future as some kind of great turning point. The only thing he can see is that at least with Blaine's self-esteem out of the gutter maybe it will make Kurt's future successes easier for him to swallow, but on that front nothing changes.

The cherry on the shit cupcake – larval Blaine metamorphoses again into a diva of Rachel Berry proportions.

Kurt sits at the dinner table, picking through the grains of his risotto with the tines of his fork, trying to find a way to cut the cheese sauce enough so that he's not ingesting 3,000 calories with this one bowl alone.

Blaine's most subtle form of sabotage – 10,000 calorie infused meals, full of cheese and whole milk cream, guaranteed to pack on the pounds; but not for Blaine, who's indulging in a spinach salad with lean grilled chicken and a balsamic vinaigrette.

Kurt sets his fork down and pushes his bowl away, laying his head on the table, the Formica cooling his cheek. To his right, Blaine rattles on about the pressures of overnight celebrity, and the bizarre, often times questionable demands of his benefactor, June Dolloway. Rachel interjects endlessly with her own magnified tales of woe; problems that aren't really problems in the life of an actress on Broadway.

Problems Kurt would kill to have.

Neither one is really listening to the other. They wait for a gap in the conversation and then dive in, talking over each other when a suitable lull doesn't come fast enough. It's all a show for Kurt's benefit, and he feels trapped between them.

If he doesn't cut free now, he may not get another chance.

Kurt sits up and clears his throat, not waiting for the conversation to die down for him.

"I've got to go," he announces simply. He pushes away from the table and stands, heading to his bedroom with long, purposeful strides.

The conversation stops dead. Both Blaine and Rachel stare at Kurt who disappears behind the curtain to his room.

"Wh-where are you going?" Blaine asks, sharing a significant look with a bemused Rachel before getting up to follow him.

"I'm leaving," Kurt says, grabbing a small piece of luggage and packing up a few of his belongings.

Blaine feels his legs wobble, and afraid that they won't hold him much longer, he sits on the edge of their bed and watches Kurt fold his things.

"But…but why?" Blaine says, unable to believe that Kurt would pick up and leave without any reason.

"I just can't stay here anymore." Kurt doesn't want to be cryptic, but he also doesn't want to fight, and telling Blaine how he feels about his life and their relationship is the tinder that would fuel an all-night firestorm of arguing and debating with a chance that Blaine might talk Kurt out of his plan; a plan he had thought of off and on for weeks, and which feels right the more he thinks about it.

Blaine watches silently, forming theories and conclusions in his mind until one sticks.

"This is about Sebastian, isn't it?"

Kurt sighs. He saw this coming.

"No," Kurt says. "It isn't." He looks into Blaine's eyes and sees skepticism there. "It really, really isn't. And even if it was, maybe that's not necessarily a bad thing."

"How can you say that, Kurt?" Blaine cries, standing off the bed and confronting Kurt head on. "I'm in love with you. Only you. I have been forever. I don't have any doubts about that. In fact, it's the one thing I don't have a single reservation about."

Kurt raises an eyebrow, tilting his head and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Blaine, you sang a love song to another guy."

Blaine steps back with a jolt.

"What are you talking about? I didn't…"

"_Against All Odds_, Blaine? You sang it for Sam."

Blaine's eyes shift from side to side, searching for a way to defend himself.

"But…how did you…"

"Do you know nothing about Tina Cohen-Chang and her pernicious cell phone videos? How do you think I saw that clip of you twerking in the choir room?"

"I…Kurt, you don't think…"

Kurt puts a hand on Blaine's arm to quiet him.

"The point is you're attracted to other people. We both have been. I don't think we've given ourselves enough time to explore those possibilities. I think it's actually a disservice if we don't."

Blaine lets a long breath out between pursed lips.

"So, you've made your mind up then?" Blaine asks.

"Yeah," Kurt says firmly, leaving no room for debate, but not trying to be cruel. "My mind's made up."

Blaine starts to panic, desperate to find a way to make Kurt stay.

"Well, you need time to find a place," Blaine rationalizes, unable to hide the dread in his voice. "That'll take a few days. That gives me time to talk you out of it."

Blaine sees the resolve in Kurt's face, and his shred of hope fades.

"You already have a place…don't you?" Blaine asks.

"Look," Kurt says, putting both hands on his shoulders, squeezing gently. "You left for the sake of our relationship, and even though I didn't want you to, I think we were on the right track."

"I came back after you got out of the hospital!" Blaine argues. "I came back for you!"

"I know you did," Kurt says quietly. "But I think that, in retrospect, was a step back."

Blaine wrenches out of Kurt's grasp and flops down on the bed, staring at the comforter instead of looking at Kurt.

"I know it sounds banal, but if we're meant to be together, Blaine, then we'll be together. But right now, I think it's better if we're not."

Blaine doesn't look up, his shoulders slumping, his entire body trembling. Kurt bites his lip. He doesn't want to hurt Blaine any more than he already has, but he feels a need to cut all ties. He slides his engagement ring off his finger, setting it delicately on the dresser beside Blaine's favorite bowtie. He zips up his bag and sets it down, tugging up the handle and rolling it across the floor. He takes two steps when Blaine speaks, his voice quivering and thick with the beginning of tears.

"I thought you said you'd always love me."

Kurt doesn't turn around. He doesn't want to risk breaking down and falling into Blaine's arms.

"I do," Kurt answers with no reservations. "And I always will. But that doesn't necessarily mean we belong together."

Kurt walks through the curtain and makes his way to the kitchen where a shocked and shaking Rachel wrings her hands in front of her, tears and liquid black liner streaking down her cheeks, the picture of a 1920s movie siren in a bittersweet black and white movie.

Kurt knows she heard every word, and that some of her tears are for him. The rest of them are for Finn.

"Oh, Rachel," Kurt says, wrapping her in his arms and hugging her tight. "I'm so sorry I didn't talk to you about this earlier, but it's something I have to do."

He can feel her nod against his shoulder.

"I understand," she whispers brokenly into his shirt, keeping a little distance so as not to stain the fabric. "Call me when you get where you're going. Okay? Let me know you're safe."

"I promise." He kisses her forehead, lingering with his lips pressed against her skin. Blaine's tears he was prepared to deal with. Rachel's are a bit more than he can bear.

She hugs him once harder and lets him go, fingers trailing down his sleeves as he steps away.

"Do you really think this is going to help anything?" Blaine cries as Kurt heads for the door. "Do you really think you leaving is what's best for us?"

Kurt shrugs on his coat, slipping the buttons through the holes, taking this moment to breathe and collect himself. He gathers the strength to look up into Blaine's pleading hazel eyes.

"No," Kurt answers honestly. "It's what's best for me."

* * *

Kurt sits on his bed and listens to the quiet in his new bedroom; emotionally drained but blissfully content for the first time in ages. Moving out of the loft was an experience Kurt never wants to repeat again no matter how long he lives. Luckily he had Elliot there to help him. Sebastian offered, but Kurt thought it better not to stir the pot too much, particularly with Sebastian being such a hot button issue lately.

Kurt had rented a U-Haul for his furniture, and a couple of students from his combat class offered to help, so they handled the large, bulky items while he and Elliot focused on what was left of his clothes and toiletries. He felt bad taking the bed, but he left the couch he and Blaine bought together, so he hoped Blaine could make due for a while until he bought a replacement.

Rachel fussed and busied herself making sandwiches and lemonade for everyone, even going so far as to pack up a few meals for Kurt's first few nights in his new place.

Blaine sat on the sofa, staring at his shoes, hands gripping his knees, with Sam beside him, rubbing a hand up and down his back in an attempt to ease his pain. Every so often Sam would look up at Kurt with an unreadable expression on his face – a mixture of sadness and sympathy and understanding, with a little bit of anger on behalf his heartbroken friend.

It didn't take long to remove all his stuff from the loft, and before he left Rachel gave him a huge hug full of sorrow for the time she was going to spend missing her best friend. Sam gave him a hug, too – more of a bro pat, but the sentiment was much the same.

Kurt wanted to give Blaine a hug goodbye. He did love him, and he would miss him, but as soon as he started walking toward the sofa where his ex-fiancé sat, he stood quietly and walked off behind the curtain.

It took less time to move his things into the apartment than it did to move them out, and before long everybody was leaving. Elliot offered to stay the night if Kurt needed, but he politely refused.

Now he is alone. For the first time in a long, long time, alone, and he would have regretted not taking Elliot up on his offer if he hadn't already made other plans.

The knock on the door jars him from his thoughts, but it's not unexpected, and Kurt smiles, standing up and nearly racing for the door.

"Who is it?" he calls out loudly in a sing-song voice even though he knows exactly.

"Fucking FedEx," a sardonic voice calls back. "Please open the damned door."

Kurt snickers as he unbolts three locks and removes the chain, opening the door for the tall, handsome man with the megawatt smile darkening his door. In his hands he holds a potted plant with a yellow ribbon tied around the base. Kurt looks at the dark green leafy philodendron with a giddy grin.

"Would you and your well-dressed friend like to come in?" Kurt asks, moving aside to let Sebastian in.

Sebastian hands the plant to Kurt as he steps inside.

"It's an apartment-warming gift," he says. "His name is Harvey."

"That's very sweet." Kurt shuts and locks the door behind them. "Thank you."

"Think nothing of it." Sebastian slips of his coat and sets it over the only chair in the place. "I stole it off my neighbor's balcony. She has tons. She'll never miss this one."

Kurt walks to a window a sets the plant down on the ledge while Sebastian gives the apartment a once over, investigating each room as if he had been invited.

"What do you think?" Kurt asks, watching as Sebastian blatantly invades his privacy.

"I wish you would have taken me up on my offer and moved into my place," Sebastian says with a grimace of disapproval. "This place is so small, and I actually feared for my life coming here."

"Well, the neighborhood's not the greatest," Kurt agrees with a shrug.

"This coming from a man whose first apartment was in Bushwick," Sebastian teases.

Kurt rolls his eyes.

"I needed to do this on my own," Kurt says, knowing that on some level Sebastian will understand.

They circle the living room, traveling in different directions, but somehow they meet in the middle. Kurt looks at Sebastian, and Sebastian looks back at Kurt with a smile that is sweet and boyish; the secret smile of the new Sebastian that Kurt has grown so fond of.

"So, are you ready for this?" Sebastian whispers, and for the first time during their lazily growing friendship, Sebastian takes Kurt's hand in his.

Kurt swallows hard at the look in Sebastian's eyes; not the raw, unbridled heat from the combat classroom at NYADA, but something more innocent, romantic and tender, willing to take chances and move slow.

"Can I…"

The words tumble from Kurt's lips, but he never finishes, leaning in and pressing his lips to Sebastian's, a startled gasp from Sebastian stealing all the breath from Kurt's body. It starts out hesitant and chaste, asking a question Kurt has been waiting to answer for a while. All at once Sebastian wraps his arms around Kurt's body and pulls them close, and Kurt melts against him, happy to let Sebastian overwhelm him. It's easy; easier than Kurt ever thought it would be. They seem to fit, from the way their lips slide together, to the way Sebastian's arms hold him against his body, the way their hips flush together and Kurt's leg twines around Sebastian's, and Kurt can't help but wonder if Sebastian isn't the puzzle piece Kurt's been looking for so long.

"You know, we can skip the movie," Kurt mumbles along the seam of Sebastian's mouth, "and hang out here."

"Kurt…" Sebastian moves along Kurt's skin, kissing a line along Kurt's jaw, "you don't have any furniture."

"I have a bed," Kurt says, a whisper against Sebastian's cheek. Kurt doesn't open his eyes to look at Sebastian's reaction, but he can feel his smile against his mouth.

"Well then," Sebastian says, pulling Kurt along, "an evening in it is."

* * *

"Okay," Kurt says, zipping up the fourth piece of luggage and setting it by the door. "So, Cooper's going to meet you at the airport. Are you absolutely sure? You remember last time when you were waiting around for an hour because he hooked up with that chic Celia in the sky lounge."

"That's why I told him I'm arriving an hour earlier than I am," Blaine calls back from the bathroom. He shoves his toothbrush and gel into his toiletry bag and does a quick scan of the shelves to make sure he isn't leaving anything behind. Confident he has everything he needs, he joins Kurt back in the bedroom and tosses the small black bag into his carry on. Kurt catches him and groans, moving the toiletry bag into position between his socks and his loafers.

"You know, I still can't believe it," Kurt sighs, zipping up the luggage and setting it with the rest, Blaine following close behind him. "Your first movie." Kurt turns to Blaine, straightening his collar and buttoning up the second button of his shirt. "You're really doing it. You're going to be a big star. I can feel it."

Blaine smiles, wide and relaxed, excitement bubbling beneath the surface.

"Who knew when I met crazy June Dolloway a year ago that I would actually be starring in a movie?"

"I did," Kurt says, ducking his head, absentmindedly twirling the ring on his left ring finger. Blaine catches the movement and smiles wistfully. Kurt looks backs at Blaine, his own smile fighting to stay fixed in place, but slipping every now and then.

"Kurt," Blaine says, staring deep into Kurt's watery blue eyes, "don't think for one second that I didn't realize that without you none of this would have happened."

Kurt gasps. He had always wanted to hear Blaine admit that. Why did it have to be now, after all the fights and the months of not speaking to one another? Why when he was on his way to California for the next two years?

Blaine pulls Kurt into his arms and hugs him tight.

"I'm going to miss you," Kurt says, resting his head against Blaine's shoulder as he holds him.

"Yeah, well, don't worry," Blaine says, patting Kurt on the back and squeezing him one last time. "I promised I'd be back in time for…"

"Blaine!" Sebastian calls from the door as he races in and starts grabbing bags. "Hands off my fiancé! Your cab's downstairs."

Blaine rolls his eyes, releasing Kurt and picking up what's left of the bags.

"I'll be back in time for the wedding," Blaine finishes over his shoulder as he hurries after Sebastian.

Kurt shuts the loft door behind them, following the two men down the stairs and out to the curb. He meets them at the taxi, Sebastian taking a bag from Blaine and fitting it into the trunk alongside the rest.

"Call us when you get to California," Kurt says.

"I will," Blaine promises.

Sebastian closes the trunk, and then catches Blaine up in an affectionate hug.

"Stay safe," he says, letting Blaine step away, knowing time is short and he's cutting it close. Kurt leans forward and kisses Blaine on the cheek, a single short peck that means so much more than a simple good-bye. Blaine climbs into the back seat of the taxi and shuts the door, turning in his seat to wave at Sebastian and Kurt. They stand by the curb and wave back, watching as his cab pulls away.

Kurt leans back against Sebastian, and Sebastian loops his arms around him.

"Penny for your thoughts," Sebastian says, resting his chin in Kurt's hair.

"I don't know," Kurt says with a melancholy sigh. "I think I'm a little sad."

"Why?" Sebastian asks. "This is a great opportunity for him."

"I know," Kurt agrees. "It's just…the city suddenly seems so much smaller now that he's leaving."

Sebastian bites his lip, not exactly thrilled with Kurt's momentary pining, but he understands. Kurt belongs to Sebastian; without a doubt Kurt is unequivocally his. But deep in Kurt's heart is a tiny spot that belongs to Blaine – a single corner stone amid a huge estate that Sebastian can claim as his own. Sebastian holds Kurt closer and he can already feel the tide turning again, Kurt weaving his arms through Sebastian's, rolling his head so he can place delicate kisses along his stubbly chin.

"Come on, babe," Sebastian says, tugging Kurt away from the curb. "Why don't we head home?"

In the light of Kurt's eyes the remains of sadness bleed into a new expression of blithe joy.

"Yes." Kurt takes Sebastian's hand, lacing their fingers together, rubbing his thumb over the matching, smooth ring on his finger. He looks into his fiance's green eyes and smiles. "Let's go home."


	6. What the Hell?

**A/N:** _**This is a one-shot from the 'What…?' series. A little peek into the day Kurt moves into Sebastian's penthouse. Sebastian is helping Kurt escape his apartment after the roach/rat infestation when Sebastian (literally) stumbles upon a piece of Kurt's past that Kurt dreads having to explain. (Warning for extremely brief mention of Blaine/Klaine)**_

"Please tell me this is the last one," Sebastian groans loudly, pushing the last of Kurt's things through the penthouse door and kicking it closed behind him with his foot. "I'm too young and handsome to have a hernia."

"Weren't you on the Lacrosse team at Dalton?" Kurt calls from the bedroom where he's busily relocating the bulk of Sebastian's wardrobe to one side of the walk-in closet so he can start hanging up his own belongings on the other side. "What happened to that strong, strapping man?"

"He met a gorgeous prima donna and nearly strained a nut moving all his fucking clothes."

Kurt chuckles; the light, airy sound of his laughter carrying into the living room where Sebastian stands beside Kurt's heavy antique trunk, and in spite of himself he sighs like a lovesick school boy. Sebastian shakes his head to clear his stupor, but still smiling, goes back to the task of relocating the cumbersome trunk.

"Holy fucking shit," Sebastian murmurs under his breath as he shoves the trunk across the throw rug that covers the bulk of the hardwood floor, "what the fuck do you got in here? A body?"

The trunk catches on the fringe of the rug, stopping it from going any farther. Sebastian stumbles over the top, collapsing on the floor in front of it. He knocks it with his leg as he lands causing the monstrous thing to tumble onto its front, the lid swinging open in the process. Lying on his stomach he can only _hear_ the contents of the trunk spill to the floor. He lies still, hoping that Kurt didn't hear the commotion, but the walls in the penthouse are thick and nearly soundproof; one of the many structural features that influenced Sebastian to purchase his penthouse to begin with. When Kurt doesn't peek his head out after a few seconds or call from the closet to ask Sebastian if he's okay, Sebastian figures he's safe to get up, clean up Kurt's things, and carry on as if he didn't just get defeated by an inanimate object.

Sebastian rises to his knees, rolling his sore wrists to make sure he didn't sprain anything important to boot, and turns, his eyes landing on something that looks suspiciously like a human arm trapped beneath the trunk, gorged and swollen, wearing men's pajamas.

"Jesus H. Christ!" Sebastian screams, scooting backward across the floor on his hands, pushing with his heels, eyes glued to the dismembered arm.

Again Kurt doesn't seem to hear Sebastian's distress, which gives him a moment to rationalize finding a severed human arm in his boyfriend's trunk. Sebastian squints at the limb, assessing it from a distance, and once his heart stops racing and his senses slip slowly back into place, he sees the object for what it is…and starts to howl like mad.

"What?" a worried Kurt calls out, running into the living room and gasping when he sees Sebastian hysterical on the floor. "What is it? What happened? Are you hurt?" Kurt fusses, but Sebastian keeps laughing, his face turning several different shades of red as he fights to breathe.

"Did you fall? Did you break something? Goddamnit, Sebastian! Would you just answer me?"

Sebastian starts to cough, not able to get a word out, so he points to where the trunk lies overturned on the rug with the arm sticking out. Kurt turns and looks, then his face goes white as a sheet.

"Kurt," Sebastian chokes out when he finds his voice, "what the hell is that?"

"Uh…" Kurt stammers, standing and rushing over to the trunk, trying to right it and reload its contents quickly to avoid answering Sebastian's questions, but Sebastian is on his feet as well, stopping Kurt before he can hide the incriminating object away. Sebastian tugs it out of Kurt's grasp and holds onto it, not letting Kurt grab it back.

"Kurt," Sebastian says, more in control of his voice and attempting to sound serious, "who is this?"

"That's just…uh, that's…" Kurt sighs, lowering his gaze so he doesn't have to see Sebastian's expression when he says, "it's Bruce."

"Bruce?" Sebastian's eyes open wide. "OhmyGod! It's got a name?"

"Yes, it's got a name, alright?" Kurt says, ripping it from Sebastian's arms. "He's my boyfriend pillow." Kurt hugs it tight to his chest before carefully packing it back into the trunk.

"You know that's really creepy," Sebastian comments. "Why on earth would you have a boyfriend pillow?"

Kurt closes the lid of the trunk, sticking his hands into the pockets of the NYU hoodie he borrowed from Sebastian and staring at his feet.

"When Blaine and I broke up, I got really lonely," Kurt confesses. "I don't like to sleep alone. It's hard when you're used to sleeping with someone else."

Sebastian's laughter and smile fade, replaced instead by the feeling that he is undoubtedly and undeniably an incredible ass.

"Kurt, I'm sorry." Sebastian walks over to Kurt and wraps his arms around him. "I didn't know. I thought maybe it was a bad bridal shower gift or something."

Kurt rolls his eyes, wrenching an arm out of Sebastian's embrace and slugging him on the soft upper arm.

"Ow!" Sebastian yelps. "Okay, I deserved that."

Sebastian looks down at Kurt, eyes still downcast, and kisses him on the top of the head.

"Well, I know I'm no stylishly dressed fiberfill pillow, but you have me to sleep with now if that's any consolation."

Kurt chuckles once and looks up with a smile.

"I guess it'll have to do."

Sebastian starts walking backwards, tugging Kurt with him towards the bedroom.

"Why don't we try that out then, huh?"

Kurt frowns, but he follows Sebastian anyway.

"But it's early," Kurt complains.

"I know," Sebastian says. "We're going to have tons of moving in sex before we officially call it a night."

Kurt turns his head towards the abandoned chest still sitting on the living room floor.

"What about my trunk?" he says, trying to pull Sebastian back to get it.

"Nuh-uh," Sebastian says, yanking Kurt harder, practically picking Kurt up to move him along. "That stays out here."

"But…" Kurt argues. Sebastian cuts him off.

"Nope. As long as Bruce lives in that trunk, it stays anywhere but the bedroom. That motherfucking arm pillow creeps me out."


	7. What Do You Say?

**A/N: **_A one-shot from the 'What…?' series. Kurt and Sebastian are getting ready for their weekly Friday night dinner at the Spotlight Diner with their friends, so why is Sebastian so devastated when a freak snowstorm threatens to cancel their plans? Warnings for mention of Blaine/Klaine. AU, romance, fluff._

"Snow…Goddamned motherfucking snow…why did it have to be snow…"

Sebastian paces in front of the picture window of his penthouse giving him an incredible view of Manhattan…and the freak blizzard covering it in layer upon layer of snow, with no apparent end in sight. He mutters curses in English and in French as he side-eyes the window, checking every now and then to see if the snow storm would miraculously stop simply because he keeps telling Mother Nature to go fuck herself.

"How can it be snowing this hard in April?" he groans, smacking a hand against the glass.

"Are you cursing at the weather again?" Kurt chuckles, sauntering in from the bedroom after three hours spent getting ready for dinner. He comes up behind his taciturn boyfriend and wraps his arms around Sebastian's waist, halting his relentless pacing. "I'm sure that the gang will understand if we're a no-show for dinner, hmm?" He squeezes Sebastian against him when his words seem to offer no comfort. "Maybe we can join them for brunch on Sunday if the weather clears by then."

Sebastian sighs, winding his arms around Kurt's. He bows his head and leans forward, resting his forehead against the cool glass, shutting his eyes so he doesn't have to see each falling flake destroying his carefully laid out plans.

Of course Kurt is right. The gang won't mind if they have to back out of their weekly Friday night dinner at the Spotlight Diner…that is if they were all meeting up at the Spotlight Diner as usual. But they are supposed to be meeting Rachel and Blaine and Mercedes and the rest of the Scooby Crew at the Four Seasons. Burt and Carole are supposed to be there, too, by now, if their plane hadn't been delayed by the storm. Now the two are sitting at gate 11 waiting anxiously for the go ahead to board.

Because this isn't any old Friday night. It's supposed to be the most important Friday night of Kurt and Sebastian's life.

"Sebastian?"

Kurt's voice pierces through the film of Sebastian's thoughts and brings him back to the present – alone in Sebastian's warm and cozy penthouse where they'd been living together ever since Sebastian managed to lure Kurt out of his cramped shoebox apartment.

Actually it didn't take all that much persuasion. When the first massive cockroach/rat invasion hit, Kurt practically had everything packed up and waiting on Sebastian's threshold. After the bedbug incident he had to endure back when he was living with Rachel and Blaine, Kurt had sworn off any place plagued by infestation, especially when he was dead set that both insect and rodent were banding together to defeat him.

Sebastian would have milked it for all it was worth, teased Kurt within an inch of his life, if not for the fact that Kurt moving in with him – not into his sublet, but physically _with_ him – was exactly what he wanted.

Sebastian had never felt so indebted to vermin in his entire life.

"Sebastian? What's wrong?"

"Why do you think anything's wrong?" Sebastian doesn't even try to hide the disappointment in his voice.

"Well, you seem really heartbroken about missing dinner tonight," Kurt points out, "and that's not really like you."

"That's not true," Sebastian continues in a flat, defeated voice, peeking down at the street through his eyelids and then shutting his eyes again. "You know how much I _love_ having dinner every Friday with your friends and your ex…"

"I thought you said that if we skipped Friday night dinners at the Spotlight we could order in Thai and have more time to fuck?" Kurt kids, trying to lift Sebastian's sour mood.

"Yeah, well, I'm not wrong about that."

Sebastian shakes his head.

"And," Kurt says, turning Sebastian away from the window, "you didn't notice that I'm wearing the brand new Alexander McQueen pants you bought me. The ones you made me promise I would wear tonight."

Sebastian opens his eyes and looks at Kurt, really looks at him, from his carefully coifed hair (newly highlighted bangs courtesy of Vogue swept up in his signature hairstyle), to his smartly tailored burgundy Burberry shirt, down to the new McQueen pants. Kurt had originally refused Sebastian's insistence on buying him the $300 pants, but there is no denying that they look like they were made with Kurt and only Kurt in mind. Kurt performs a spin in place so Sebastian can see them from all angles, and Sebastian stares shamelessly, appreciating every inch of the shimmering fabric clinging to Kurt's muscular legs, the mold of the waist band around his trim stomach, the snug way they cradle his delicious ass.

In Sebastian's opinion, buying these pants is the best money he has ever spent.

Then he remembers.

They're the second best money he's ever spent.

"Well," Kurt says, posing for full effect, "how do I look?"

Sebastian can only manage a partial smile at the brilliance that is Kurt Hummel.

"You look…perfect," Sebastian says with a sigh of regret. "Fucking perfect as always, Goddamnit!"

Sebastian storms away, leaving a perplexed Kurt standing alone at the window staring at a never ending cascade of snow.

"Wh…what the hell, Sebastian?" Kurt yells, following Sebastian through the living room into the master bedroom, finding him sitting at the end of the king-sized bed, frantically texting on his iPhone. "What's your problem?"

"None of your business, princess," Sebastian says, not looking up, his voice a thin façade of calm threatening to break any minute.

"None of my business?" Kurt repeats, his voice rising with anger and confusion. "You're moody and upset over a stupid dinner, Sebastian…"

Sebastian glares up at Kurt, eyes burning through him with unexplained and unexpected rage.

"_Stupid_ dinner?" Sebastian growls, his jaw locked around the words, caging his sharp tongue. "Stupid dinner?" Sebastian stands from the bed, and Kurt steps back.

"Yes, Sebastian," Kurt says, matching Sebastian's intensity but not his anger, wanting desperately to cool his boyfriend's impending tantrum and rescue the evening. "Stupid dinner. It's the same thing every Friday. You'll have a burger, I'll have a salad, Rachel will whine about her new Broadway show, Blaine will complain about June and some crazy scheme she has him wrapped up in, and then you and me will call it a night. Probably come back here for some naked Pictionary, Seb."

"Oh, so I'm that predictable then?" Sebastian says, the words still angry but coming across as a challenge; a challenge that Kurt isn't sure how to take.

"I…I didn't say that, Seb," Kurt says, feeling an alarming need to defend himself. "Don't put words in my mouth."

"You think you know everything about me, Hummel?" Sebastian's voice drops to a whisper as he advances on Kurt, hands secure on his hips pushing him towards the wall. "You think you know me so fucking well?"

Kurt stands his ground, not making it easy for Sebastian to move him from his spot, smiling at the grunts of effort Sebastian makes when Kurt's feet don't budge.

"I think I know you well enough." Kurt juts his chin defiantly.

"Yeah? What do you know about me?"

Kurt can't help the mood he's in, the aggravation at Sebastian's spoiled attitude simmering beneath the surface of his skin.

"I know you can be a real asshole when you want to be," Kurt blurts out without thinking.

"Really?" Sebastian says with mock interest, a smirk of triumph splitting his lips when he finally manages to push Kurt into the corner and block him in with his body.

"Yup." Kurt tries to pretend the close proximity of Sebastian's body doesn't affect him, especially now when he wants to be furious with him, but he can't. They act on each other like magnets – Sebastian pushes and Kurt pulls, until even in this state of utter and complete irritation, all Kurt wants to do is tear the Brooks Brothers shirt from Sebastian's chest and devour every inch of his smooth, tanned skin. "In fact, you're so good at it I don't think you even realize when you're doing it anymore. It's part of who you are now."

"So, I'm an asshole?" The teasing trace in Sebastian's voice dissolves almost completely, his face contorting back to anger, but this time with hurt in the mix.

Kurt wants to explain himself, but Sebastian leans in close, and pins him with his stare.

"Would an asshole visit you in the hospital and stand by your door while you slept to make sure you're okay?"

Kurt's eyes went wide.

"Sebastian, you never told me…"

"Would an asshole follow you around New York City, trying to keep you safe?"

"Sweetheart, I…"

"Would an asshole offer you a place to live rent free so you don't have to spend the rest of your life with a douche?"

Kurt stops trying to interrupt and simply shakes his head, wanting Sebastian to stop, to give him space to breathe. Sebastian looks into Kurt's face and notices his shocked expression and backs away.

"I'm…I'm sorry, Kurt. It's just…" Sebastian walks off toward the window where the falling snow seems to have doubled in volume. "This wasn't just any Friday night. But if I'm just some asshole, maybe this was actually a blessing."

"What do you mean?" Kurt asks quietly, slowly crossing the room to join him. "You're not having second thoughts, are you?"

"What?" Sebastian asks, eyes trained outside. "No, I'm not having second thoughts. I…"

Sebastian spins around so fast he almost falls forward onto his smirking boyfriend.

"Wait? You knew?"

Kurt shrugs, biting his tongue and forcing himself not to look too smug.

"How…"

"Little things," Kurt divulges. "You're not that good at keeping secrets, and like I said, I know you well enough."

Sebastian sighs, shrinking beneath Kurt's softening gaze.

"I wanted everything to be perfect for once," Sebastian confesses, dropping his eyes to his feet.

Kurt takes Sebastian's hand in his, pulling gently to coax Sebastian's eyes up.

"Well?" Kurt asks.

"Well, what?" Sebastian says, looking at the hand holding his.

"Aren't you going to ask me?"

Sebastian's eyes rise to meet Kurt's

"But your dad's flying in. With Carole. And everyone you know is coming to dinner to see," Sebastian argues. "Don't you want to wait?"

Kurt shakes his head with a small smile.

"Don't you think I've waited long enough?"

Sebastian takes a sharp breath in, stunned and silent for a second. Then he pats down his pockets madly, and Kurt giggles knowing exactly what he's searching for.

"Uh…" Sebastian fishes the small rounded black box from his pocket, and even without its blue outer box Kurt knows this ring is from Tiffany's. Sebastian looks around the room, chewing on the inside of his cheek, his mind working furiously. He leads Kurt to the bed and sits him down, dropping to a knee between Kurt's legs. Kurt waits as Sebastian opens his mouth and closes it. He looks down at his hands, opens his mouth, and closes it again. He clears his throat, fiddling with the box in his hands. Kurt wants to lay a reassuring hand in Sebastian's hair, but he holds still instead.

"Kurt, I'm…I'm not really good at things like this," Sebastian starts, still eying the little black box holding a huge portion of his future happiness inside. "Flowery words and huge displays aren't really my forte, as you can see. I couldn't even get everyone together for dinner."

Kurt nods, fighting back a nervous chuckle.

Sebastian pauses again and Kurt thinks that might be the end of it, that Sebastian will shove the box in his hand without another word, and Kurt realizes that would be fine.

There really isn't anything Sebastian needs to say. He doesn't need to convince Kurt to say yes.

Sebastian laughs once and looks up at Kurt.

"I love you, Kurt," Sebastian says with a shrug. "I think…no, I'm sure I always have, and if I was a different kind of person, I would have fought for you…" Sebastian swallows hard, looking mildly contrite, "…but you're right. I am an asshole. I acted like a jerk, and I didn't treat you the way you deserved to be treated."

"And how do I deserve to be treated?" Kurt asks out of blind, morbid curiosity.

"You deserve to be treated like a prince," Sebastian responds without hesitation. "You deserve to be told how breathtaking you are every day…." Sebastian takes Kurt's hand, his left hand, the hand whose ring finger has lain bare ever since Kurt moved out of the loft, and kisses it across the knuckles. "You deserve to be worshipped and made love to and have everything you've ever wanted."

Kurt's whole body trembles with every kiss, his heart stuttering with every word, and a sudden surge of urgency fills his body straight to his bones. He wants Sebastian to end this wonderful torture and ask him already.

"So I'm hoping," Sebastian continues, his whispered voice racing along Kurt's skin, "that maybe this can be the beginning of me worshipping you for the rest of my life."

Sebastian lets go of Kurt's hand long enough to produce the black box and open it. Kurt gasps at the simple platinum band inside, a pair of two diamonds studding the band in four places around the ring; such a different ring from the one that Blaine had given him on that Dalton staircase so long ago.

A different ring for a very different promise.

Sebastian smirks at Kurt's dazed expression of awe.

"So, what do you say, Kurt?" Sebastian says, pulling the ring from the box and holding it in front of Kurt's ring finger, waiting to slip it on. "Are you going to marry me or not?"

Kurt is caught in what he's sure is a dream. He's been in this position dozens of times, and each time he's woken up before his alarm, disappointed and heartbroken.

"Ask me again?" Kurt pleads, looking from the ring to Sebastian's smiling green eyes, back down to the beautiful ring.

Sebastian kneels up straight, his lips hovering shy of Kurt's ear.

"My gorgeous, amazingly talented Kurt…my boyfriend…my lover…the best friend I've ever had…will you marry me?"

Kurt holds his breath, wanting to linger in this moment a while longer, but he's already nodding yes, the ring fitting itself onto his finger, and when he finally opens his mouth to say the word, it's a choked, insignificant sound, swallowed by Sebastian's mouth on his because they both knew from the start that there wasn't any other option for Kurt than to accept.

"So, when are our friends expecting us?" Kurt asks, refusing to remove his lips from his fiancé's mouth.

"In about two hours," Sebastian says, "but I think we'll have to wait for tomorrow to see your dad and Carole."

Kurt smiles.

"So, we have some time to make love before dinner?"

"Hmmm, I guess we do," Sebastian agrees, "provided we make it there at all."

Kurt scoots back on the bed and Sebastian crawls after him.

"Are you going to take off your ring so they can watch me propose to you all over again?" Sebastian asks, unbuttoning Kurt's shirt.

"Nope," Kurt says simply, starting with the buttons on Sebastian's pants.

"Uh-oh," Sebastian laughs. "I think Berry's going to flip her shit if she finds out she missed it."

"Well, then she's just going to have to learn to deal with it," Kurt says, cupping a hand beneath Sebastian's chin and pulling his eyes up to meet his. "Because this ring is never coming off my finger."


	8. What Should We Do?

**A/N: **_Okay, here's another one-shot from the 'What…?' series. On what should be the biggest day of Kurt and Sebastian's life, Sebastian is MIA and Kurt is in the bathroom with his head over the toilet. To top it off, the storm of the century is about to hit the east coast. Is this just the fates saying that Kurt and Sebastian were just not meant to be? (Warning for mention of vomitting and Blaine-friendly but no Klaine because he has to be a good guy every once in a while. I like to believe that people grow up :) Romance, fluff, good-feelings all around… )_

Kurt barrels down the beach, trying to stay on the narrow, blue runner lying across the sand so he doesn't trip and fall flat on his face. Confused eyes watch him fly down the aisle, his hand clamped tight over his mouth to rescue him from an even more devastating embarrassment.

"Kurt!" Blaine calls after him, chasing him as dark clouds close in overhead, gray and heavy and threatening rain. The entire wedding party and throng of guests pulls their eyes away from the couple racing past them as a bolt of lightning flashes overhead, lighting up the tent on the beach, throwing disturbing and chaotic shadows around them.

"Kurt! Stop!"

Kurt doesn't stop. He runs straight for the temporary bathrooms outside the tent and locks himself in the first available one.

"Kurt! I'm so sorry!" Blaine says through the door as thunder rumbles loud overhead.

Kurt opens his mouth to bite back with a witty retort for Blaine's weak apology, but his stomach lurches and Kurt barely makes it to the toilet. He vomits up everything in his stomach, everything he's ever eaten since he first thought about getting married, all the way back to when he was twelve and he used to marry his X-Men and Power Ranger action figures off in elaborate ceremonies on the front lawn of his house.

"Kurt," Blaine continues when the sound of retching dies down, "are you okay?"

Quiet moans are Kurt's only reply.

"Kurt, I didn't mean to hurt you! I never intended…"

"I asked you for one thing!" Kurt finally roars over the rattling of the wind whipping the walls of the bathroom hut. "_One_ thing to not ruin this ceremony, and you couldn't do that, could you!?"

"I didn't think it would make that much of a difference!"

"Well, it did!" Kurt cries, leaning back over the toilet, feeling queasy and angry and fed up all at the same time…but mostly queasy. "It _did_ make a difference and now the whole ceremony is ruined."

"It's not ruined!" Blaine counters, trying to console the hysterical groom.

"How is this not ruined?" Kurt bellows. "He's not here! Sebastian's not here and it's all your fault!"

"But…"

"I asked you to bring him!" Kurt rails over him. "You! How could you pass him off to Cooper! I mean, have you even met your broth-_urgh!"_

Blaine winces sympathetically, leaning his head against the door. Another crash of thunder drowns out the sound of Kurt being sick, but the earth-shaking noise doesn't even phase Blaine.

Kurt's right. He fucked up.

"Why did he have to stay at that stupid suite across town?" Kurt whimpers. "Why couldn't he have stayed here at the hotel with us?"

"It's some sort of Smythe tradition," Blaine explains. "I don't remember all that well. I might have been a little drunk last night when he told me."

Kurt rolls his eyes. Apparently while he, Rachel, and Mercedes were watching the _Twilight_ trilogy and busily wrapping Jordan almonds into tiny net tulle bags until their fingers bled; Cooper, Blaine, and Hunter kidnapped Sebastian and dragged him out to a local gay bar for the stag party of the century.

All Kurt knows about it he got from cell phone footage sent to him in the morning.

He isn't too upset at Sebastian for the naked lap dance that Coop had bought for him as a wedding present, especially since in the video Sebastian didn't look too into it, but Kurt vowed that the next time he sees Cooper Anderson he's going to run the man over with his Navigator.

On top of that, Sebastian's parents had rented Sebastian two adjoining suites at an extravagant hotel on the complete opposite side of the city, and from the jokes and jabs of yesterday afternoon it seemed that its sole purpose was to keep Kurt and Sebastian apart. Kurt couldn't help but wonder at the time if they were sending him some sort of subliminal message.

Well if _they_ weren't, the universe seemed to be. Late last night the storm of the century started brewing off the east coast, and if news meteorologists can be believed it is headed right for his wedding.

Kurt is amazed he hasn't broken down completely yet.

"Kurt?" Rachel's voice replaces Blaine's. "Kurt, I just got a text from Sebastian. They're here."

Kurt feels himself start to relax. He takes a deep breath, his throat stinging as the cool air passes through on its way to his lungs.

Everything is going to be alright now because Sebastian is there and they're going to get married. They're going to stand up in front of all their friends, and family, and acquaintances from work, and about three hundred other people that the Smythes invited that Kurt doesn't even know, and they're going to pledge their lives to each other – to love, honor, and obey, for as long as they both shall live.

More thunder roars, shaking the walls of the bathroom so violently that Kurt thinks a tragically derailed train might be bearing down on him.

He feels his face go green again and another round of vomiting begins.

"How long has he been at it?" Rachel whispers to Blaine.

"About an hour," Blaine replies, his heart bleeding out of pity for Kurt every time he hears him groan.

"Can a human being even puke for an hour straight?" Rachel asks. "I mean, he barely ate anything last night and all he had this morning for breakfast was an egg white omelet and three slices of turkey bacon. What else does he have left?"

"My guess is a kidney and a lung," a breathless voice answers behind them. Blaine and Rachel turn to see Mercedes leading a debonair but slightly wind bedraggled Sebastian to the bathrooms in time to hear his intended groom lose the rest of his stomach.

Sebastian pushes past Blaine and Rachel and raps on the door with his knuckles.

"Kurt, honey," he says, concern lacing through his words when he hears another painful sounding dry heave, "if you're done throwing up, I'd really like to get married now."

Rachel slaps Sebastian lightly on the shoulder and Blaine snickers, but none of that hides the worry clouding their eyes. A blue bolt of lightning splits the sky, immediately followed by a growl of thunder, ratcheting up the tension and the overall sense of urgency about ten notches.

"Kurt…" Rachel tries for a comforting whisper but finds she needs to yell over the howling wind. "Sweetheart, you have to make a decision. We have a crowd of people sitting in that tent in danger of flying off to Kansas if they have to wait any longer for you guys to get married."

Kurt doesn't answer, and in the silence that surrounds them the wind whistles louder, giving them the eerie sense that something bad is about to happen.

"Uh…" Kurt's wavering voice cuts through the din, "can I talk to Sebastian? Alone?"

"Kurt!" Rachel objects immediately. "It's bad luck…"

All eyes snap to her and the rest of the sentence dies in her mouth.

The bathroom door cracks open and Sebastian slips inside, not quite prepared for the image of Kurt – his gorgeous, handsome, amazing Kurt – dressed in a one-of-a-kind Kurt Hummel designed tuxedo, his hair styled to perfection; but his face is ghastly pale, his lips lightly tinged blue, his eyes red from strain and crying.

"Wow, Kurt," Sebastian says softly, seeing past the sickness and the pain and seeing only his incredible groom, "you look…amazing."

Kurt smiles weakly, wrapping his arms around his torso, shivering a bit with the cold and the haunting sound of the wind.

"So what's up, babe?" Sebastian tries his best to sound nonchalant even though in the back of his mind blossoms a fear that there's the very real possibility of Kurt calling off the wedding. "Are you getting cold feet?"

Kurt shakes his head and takes a step forward, falling into his fiancé's arms.

"I still want to marry you," Kurt sniffles, not wanting to make a mess of Sebastian's tux. He looks up nervously. "Do you want to marry me?"

Sebastian smirks, the slightest half-twist at the corner of his mouth, but it's reassuring nonetheless.

"I don't think I've wanted anything more in my life."

Kurt sighs, melting further into Sebastian's arms. From outside the bathroom, Kurt hears rain start pelting the thin roof, and the low muttering of wedding guests shifting in their seats, complaining quietly. Above it all they hear Cooper Anderson dramatically attempt to keep order.

"Please stay seated, family and friends," he announces, "while we try to locate the grooms. The wedding will start in just a minute…"

Those words make Kurt's heart hammer heavily in his chest.

"It's not that I don't want to marry you, Seb," Kurt confesses quickly, competing with the rain, "I just…don't want all this. This huge wedding…all these people…"

"I thought you wanted a big wedding," Sebastian says. He holds Kurt closer so he can hear Sebastian's words with his ear pressed against his chest.

"I thought I did, too," Kurt says. "But…now I don't. It doesn't feel like _our_ wedding."

Sebastian sighs, relishing this moment alone with Kurt in his arms. He knows exactly how Kurt feels. Ever since they set the date, everyone had something to say about the details of their wedding, but no one more so than his parents. They chose most of the food, invited the majority of the guests, and that stupid suite last night…

Sebastian barely slept, he missed Kurt so damned much.

Naked in bed with Kurt in his arms would have been the best start to this morning. It would have given him the strength to face the horde of people in the tent outside that he himself didn't know, friends of the family or not.

With the exception of the nausea, he feels just like Kurt; done with it all.

"So, what should we do, babe?" Sebastian asks.

Kurt shrugs, his whole body shaking as more thunder cracks overhead.

"I don't know, but I just want it to be us, Seb…just you and me."

Sebastian listens to the rain pound overhead, the wind howls around them, threatening to pull the small hut off its hinges. He pinches his lower lip between his teeth and grins.

"I think I can do that."

Sebastian turns the knob and the wind rips the door open. He steps out of the bathroom, holding his fiancé tight against him, afraid of losing him to the swirling wind.

"Blaine! Rachel!" Sebastian yells louder now that they're out of the confines of the bathroom, no longer shielded from the weather. "Tell everyone to go!"

"What!?" Rachel's jaw drops. She looks thoroughly appalled, holding onto her vintage pillbox hat to keep it from tearing the hair out of her head in its attempt to fly away.

"Tell everyone to go," Sebastian repeats. "We're cancelling the wedding."

"You can't put that on us!" Rachel screams.

"Of course we can," Sebastian says with a laugh. "That's what the best man and the maid-of-honor are for; doing our dirty work so we don't get creamed by angry wedding guests."

"But, wait," Blaine interrupts with a worried glance at a pale Kurt. "So, you guys aren't getting married?"

"I didn't say that," Sebastian says with a more sincere grin, "just not here. Not now."

"Wh-what…where are you going?" Rachel calls out as Sebastian practically carries Kurt away. Blaine is already gone, directing the crowd of grumbling wedding guests off the beach and back into the safety of the hotel.

"We're getting the fuck out of here," Sebastian says, opening the door of the wedding party limo; the gaudy, decorated one with his and Kurt's honeymoon luggage already stowed in the back. He swiftly ushers Kurt inside. "That's all you need to know."

Sebastian chuckles as he catches a snippet of Cooper arguing with someone he guesses is probably his own mother.

"Look, I realize you're upset," Cooper yells, "but unless you want to be swept out into the Atlantic, I suggest you head inside."

Sebastian climbs into the limo beside a much calmer looking Kurt who's already pouring two glasses of champagne.

"Where to?" the chauffeur asks, nonplussed by the pouring rain from the raging storm outside.

"The airport," Sebastian says.

Kurt looks at Sebastian curiously, handing him a flute of champagne.

"You look like a man with a plan." Kurt takes a sip from his own flute, letting the alcohol flow through him and soothe what's left of his frazzled nerves.

"I am," Sebastian says, reclining beside his fiancé.

"Are you going to let me in on it?" Kurt asks.

Sebastian drains his glass in one go and reaches for the bottle.

"Nope." He turns to kiss Kurt, savoring the sweet taste of his lips and forgetting the bottle of champagne entirely.

The next day the majority of the wedding guests are safely back home.

Two days later, the caterers, photographers, and the venue are all compensated for a wedding that didn't take place.

Three days later, for most everyone involved life goes back to normal.

Four days later, family and friends from New York, to Ohio, even a few in France, wake up to an email with the subject line, "Aloha from Mr. and Mr. Hummel-Smythe!" Attached to the email is a video of Kurt and Sebastian, standing knee deep in the calm blue waters of the Pacific, sun shining in the clear sky over their heads, wearing matching white slacks and white shirts – Sebastian's shirt is untucked while Kurt's ensemble is offset by a thin, stylish black belt. They both wear leis of glossy green ti leaves draped over their shoulders. White orchids weave through Kurt's lei at the neck. They stare into each other's eyes while a smiling, dark-skinned Polynesian gentleman declares them husband and husband; and when they kiss, they're cheered on by an intimate chorus of onlookers – strangers who for one day become friends and wedding guests.

Of all the people who see the video - from Burt and Carole who replay it over and over, to Mr. and Mrs. Smythe who forward it to everyone they know, even Isabelle who plays it for her entire office staff at _Vogue_ - it's Blaine who comments to a teary-eyed Mercedes and a speechless Rachel that he has never seen two people in his life who looked more in love.


End file.
